


Broken Mirrors

by Molly_Jae



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Alternate Magnus Bane/Alternate Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters: This World Inverted), Bad Parent Maryse Lightwood, Good Parabatai Jace Wayland, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Camille Belcourt/Ragnor Fell, Implied/Referenced Conversion Therapy, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Jealous Alec Lightwood, Jealousy, M/M, Raphael Santiago Has Feelings, Sad Alec Lightwood, Sad Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 57,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27265462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly_Jae/pseuds/Molly_Jae
Summary: TWI Alec finds himself in the New York Institute of the Shadowhunter Universe the day after Ragnor's death. Stuck until they figure out how to return him, he finds himself getting to know these different version of the people he considered his family, and maybe helping his counterpart find love (for himself and in other relationships).Magnus didn't know what to think when he'd gotten custody of the wayward dimension-travelling mundane that bore the face of the Shadowhunter that kept breaking his heart.
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alternate Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters: This World Inverted), Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 84
Kudos: 135





	1. Day Zero: The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Never Stand Between Two Mirrors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7052890) by [oncethrown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncethrown/pseuds/oncethrown). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom, and I have no idea how this will be received. I started writing this earlier in the year, after having been inspired by [oncethrown's Never Stand Between Two Mirrors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7052890).
> 
> Warning for angst and hurt/comfort throughout the fic!

_“I will not ask again.”_

Alec hated it.

Hated that he couldn’t get the words out of his head.

Hated that he kept going over the conversation.

Hated that he recalled every bit of it clearly.

Hated that he wished it wasn’t the case.

Hated that he was still so confused despite being exactly where he’s supposed to be.

From where he stood to Lydia’s right, he observed the way Clary, Jace, and Isabelle held themselves. Clary and Jace had arrived to report their updates regarding the search for Valentine, after much insistence on Alec’s part. Isabelle had walked right in with them, uncaring that she hadn’t been asked nor ordered to.

The tension in the room was palpable, and Alec knew that if it weren’t for him, none of the trio would even be giving Lydia what information they’ve given.

It was in the middle of a particularly heated exchange between Isabelle and Lydia that a shimmer on one side of the room caught everyone’s eye. Immediately alert and ready for a fight, no one was prepared for the brunet that appeared kneeling on the floor.

“Alec?”

There was no mistaking the new occupant in the room. They shared the same dark hair and hazel eyes, and if he stood up, they would probably be of the same height as well. It was, however, such a stark comparison to make.

“Iz? J? Clary?” He pushed himself up to stand, fiddling with his hand before tucking them into his pockets. “Wait, this isn’t…who the fuck are—Lydia?!”

Isabelle watched her brother’s double carefully, took note of the sea foam blue coat and pants, and the navy shirt underneath. His hair was gelled back and though there were patches of dirt on his pants, he looked otherwise pristine. She chanced a glance at her brother, saw the way he clenched his jaw to reign his emotions in.

“What is going on right now?”

“I think I know who he is.” Clary offered with a wince.

And after about ten minutes of explaining just where Other Alec had come from, as well as Alec’s volunteered information of the particular party having been three years ago, and that what he knew of the Shadow Realm was secondhand information from becoming friends with the Magnus Bane of his world, all that Lydia had left to offer was, “I’ve called Magnus Bane to advice.”

“Yes!” The other Alec exclaimed just as Clary stood, “No!”

Regular Alec’s face tightened, though Isabelle thought perhaps only she had noticed. The parade rest that was her brother’s default stance was straighter and his jaw was clenched. Though a scowl was common on his face, the way he was looking at Other Alec made Isabelle think that the latter probably would have exploded or burned to a crisp if he had anything to say about it.

Lydia continued, undeterred, “He’s the nearest High Warlock; not to mention we already have a working relationship with him. Despite your assurances, we must be careful dealing with this. Magic, whether Seelie or otherwise, needs an experienced hand. If there were any sort of glamour disguising the truth of this mundane from us, he’s the best chance we have at figuring this out.”

“Magnus just lost a friend,” Clary offered as an explanation for her denial. “The warlock we visited— _Ragnor Fell_ — he was attacked by—”

“Ragnor’s _dead_?” Other Alec’s tone caught everyone’s attention. “I’m—I—Where’s Magnus? Is he okay? What am I asking? Of course he’s not! Where’s Cat? God, please tell me she’s still alive.”

“Shut up,” Alec barked, unable to hold his tongue any longer. “The sooner we get you out of here and back to your world, the better for everyone involved.”

And if Alec could have glared any harder then, he would have, Isabelle couldn’t help but think. She let her eyes drift back to the Other Alec, who didn’t cower from the identical stare down.

“I have no intention of staying any longer than I have to in this dimension,” he snipped, then turned to Clary with a softer expression. “Ragnor? Tall, likes to scare people, loves Magnus? That Ragnor?”

Isabelle tried not to pay attention to the way her big brother’s scowl deepened.

Jace shrugged, “We only met him and then he was attacked by a Shax demon.”

The small sigh that escaped Other Alec was easily heard. “And Magnus?”

“He asked us to leave so that he could deal with it.” Clary replied. “We haven’t really—”

“I see.” Other Alec pursed his lips then, looking around and reminding Isabelle of their own Alec and the way he would survey the scene and take everything into account before coming up with a plan. He held himself the same way too, probably unaware that he and Regular Alec were both standing with their hands behind their backs, weight distributed evenly on their feet.

His phone remained open on the coffee table, a group selfie of him, Other Isabelle, and Other Jace on screen. He’d shown the images to them earlier as proof of his and Clary’s claims.

There was a sound that alerted them of someone at the Institute’s doors, and Lydia excused herself to let Magnus in. It was in that silence that Other Alec continued his perusal, and Isabelle noted that it was no longer filled with curiosity and shock. He was taking everything in and cataloging all that he saw, which details he took note of, she wasn’t sure, but it reminded her a lot of Alec’s expression when zeroing in on a target.

Only, there were no arrows to fire, and Other Alec schooled his face into a more open (innocent) expression as the faint voices of Lydia and Magnus wafted in.

“If you need a warlock so often, perhaps you should consider taking on a contract and having one on retainer. I know a few that would not mind taking it.”

At that, both Alecs straightened up, though seemingly for differing reasons. If Isabelle were to hazard a guess, her brother would have wanted to be as far from Magnus as possible, while other Alec seemingly only wanted to see Magnus.

“I’m sure there will be no need, Magnus. We really are hoping that we’ll need to call on you—or warlocks in general—less and less, but in this case…”

Magnus took in the sight of the other Alec, looking every bit the anti-thesis to the Alexander he knew. The odd feel of his magic having already been in the room both soothed and unsettled him.

“Magnus!” Other Alec unclasped his hands and straightened his coat, smiling at the bewildered warlock that stood by the door.

Isabelle met Jace’s eyes then, and the understanding that they saw reflected in each other’s eyes spoke volumes. They’d always known, she supposed. At least, she’d known long before she’d even considered that there was perhaps a reason Alec felt the need to keep himself on the rigid line their parents had set down for them. She’d seen the brief glances, had worked up to light teasing, but never went further than that when she realized how Alec had looked at Jace.

She could never bring herself to even attempt a jab at their bond, especially with the way Jace made jokes about Alec’s being uptight and needing to let loose while subsequently entertaining advances of many other _women_. Isabelle had said nothing of the lingering glances she’d seen Alec give Jace under the guise of ensuring his parabatai’s safety. She had kept her mouth shut when they’d seen just how much Jace meant to Alec when they were dealing with Valak—never mind that her own treasured memory was of her brother. If there was anything they had apparently learned from their parents, it was that you didn’t speak of those that could only spell trouble.

Clary took it upon herself to explain what had happened, and though Lydia and Magnus had stepped into the room enough to close the door, Magnus was still very much closer to the exit than everyone else.

No one needed to confirm Isabelle’s theory that something had happened between Magnus and Alec. She’d teased him for staying the night, but something had changed (made everything more tense? worse?) after her trial. For all that Magnus has done to help them, there hasn’t been much of a fair trade off. He’d helped Clary and Jace to Ragnor Fell and lost his friend for it. She wondered how he wasn’t holding it against them.

“Well, that certainly seems peculiar. I’m unsure just what it means that a while has passed in your dimension when it’s only been two days here, but then the nature of Seelie and dimensional magic in general are areas of magic few are well-versed in.”

Other Alec seemed stunned, relief and something else mixing as he smiled at Magnus. His entire countenance unwound. “You believe me?”

Alec had never wanted to hit his face so much. Although a fair bit of space separated Other Alec from Magnus, there was no mistaking that the pair seemed to gravitate towards the other without much thought. Where Magnus would usually keep his stance open and engage them all in conversation, he’d angled himself to be directly facing Other Alec, who mimicked it and kept one hand in his coat pocket, while the other held his lapel.

He looked around and knew that everyone could see it too. Other Alec hadn’t said anything outside of being Magnus’ friend, but if the way he regarded their Magnus were any indication, then—

Would they think him the same?

“Hard not to believe you when you show up here covered in protection wards I created long ago but haven’t put on a mundane in centuries.” There’s a softness in his tone that wasn’t lost on all that were in the room. He smiled and shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought, fingers wiggling in the air before absentmindedly caressing his ear cuff. “Why don’t we retrace your steps again? You appeared here?”

Jace volunteered more information, “There was no portal or anything. Just a hazy flash of light and then there he was.”

Keeping eye contact with only Other Alec, Magnus continued, “And you were at the old Institute in your dimension?” 

“Yes, Mags and I were—I was pestering him to let me explore a place that had meant a lot to my supposed history and his actual history.”

_Mags._

A nickname that indicated friendship; one that none had license to use on the Magnus here—that didn’t exist in their vocabulary.

“How can we be sure he’s telling the truth?” Alec spat, latching on to Other Alec’s stumble. “He could be lying.”

“But why would he lie? What could he gain from this? If anything, this will put his dimension in danger if he doesn’t get back in time.” Jace countered, and not for the first time, Alec’s glare was directed at his parabatai.

“Yeah, I was in your world. There were no demons there. Everyone was a mundane and even the downworlders were supposedly going under.”

“They were going extinct,” agreed Other Alec. “Warlocks can’t have kids and only Vampires and Werewolves can effectively continue their lineage, but no one really wanted to bring the Shadow World into the light, so to speak. Give me veritaserum or crucio me until I spill the beans—but there aren’t even any beans to spill. I went to the old Institute with Mags just to see what it was like, then since I’m an idiot who’s almost as big of a clutz as Iz is, I slid on some debris and fell and found myself here.”

There it was again. _Mags_. Alec’s grip on his arm was not going to loosen up anytime soon.

“This isn’t Harry Potter.” Clary pointed out with a barely suppressed smile.

“And I’m not some muggleborn stuck in the Ministry of Magic,” replied Other Alec dryly. He looked to Lydia, who seemed to be the person in charge, anyways. “Look, I just want to get back to my own dimension. My family would be worried sick—Mags and I were supposed to go meet Iz and Simon for drinks after.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed at him. A second passed before she turned back to Magnus, “Is there anything you can do?”

Magnus weighed his options. His magic told him that Other Alec was not being entirely truthful, but at the same time, neither Other Alec’s nor his own magic had signaled that he was anything other than who he was claiming to be. The wards around the man, familiar to Magnus in a way that felt as if he had placed them himself but centuries ago, would ensure that no rune would stick to his skin. At least he would be safe from that kind of torture.

He let his magic manifest visibly in his hands, just so they can see that he was doing something. Seelies weren’t the only master of dimensional magic on this plane, but what vague theory he had couldn’t really be confirmed; and at the end of the day, the Seelies would at least be able to ensure that Other Alec returned to the right dimension and time.

“Would everyone mind standing by the door while I check the room? I’d ask you all to leave me with our newest Lightwood, but I understand that there might be a need for secrecy where this issue is concerned.”

Grateful when they all did as asked, Magnus steeled himself and walked right up to the man who shouldn’t exist. Hazel eyes that seemed so close to green in that moment had Magnus nearly buckling. His last interaction with this world’s Alexander had been just before he had gone to find Ragnor, and that wasn’t something he wanted to even think about right now. With the wedding in a week, all Magnus wanted was some time to be alone and lick his proverbial wounds—both for being rejected and Ragnor’s death.

A bright blue hue encompassed Other Alec as Magnus waved his right hand up, and with a flick the blue spread out and covered the entire room. Of all the occupants, only Other Alec remained covered in his magic, a faint trace of someone else’s magic visible only to the High Warlock. Ensuring that his movements were smooth and that his face revealed nothing other than mild curiosity, Magnus turned back to the shadowhunters.

“Well, I have good news and not so good news.” One of his hands settled on the chains around his neck as he looked from Lydia to Alexander, and back. “Which would you like first?”

“Not so good news, I suppose.” Lydia could already feel the beginning of a migraine.

“There is no immediate answer as to how we can return ah—Mr. Lightwood—”

“Call me _anything_ but that.”

“—to his dimension ourselves without help from the Seelies. His appearance here suggests that the problem lies in the Seelie Realm, and what protection the Magnus Bane of his world had given him prevented him from experiencing what Clary and Jace had and integrating with…” Magnus motioned to Alec.

“And the good news?” Other Alec came to stand beside Magnus.

Jace couldn’t resist checking on Alec, and the stiffness he held himself with seemed to multiply at Other Alec’s every move. He saw Alec’s gaze drop briefly to Magnus and Other Alec, as if he were sizing them up. But for what, exactly? Isabelle shifted and met his gaze, and he knew then that she understood just how volatile the situation was and how much worse it could be.

“You’ll go back on your own. Partly because Seelies, despite being finicky faeries, do uphold the balance of dimensions, and your being here certainly upsets it. What force that brought you here will also pull you back, to restore the balance.” Magnus returned his attention to Lydia, “I might have some books that contain spells to speed it up, but I am certain he will return to his dimension without much help from us.”

“How long are we talking about here?” Other Alec crossed his arms then, unknowingly copying the local Alec’s pose.

Magnus thought of the strength of the other magic surrounding him, “A month or two, at most.”

“I—I can’t be gone for a month or two! No. N-no. No! What even am I going to do? I assume you aren’t going to let me just wander around—”

A mundane clone of the future Head of the New York Institute, who happened to be the son of former Circle members, and whose Institute was currently under investigation. The chances of him being let out of the room alone, were slim. Magnus thought he’d done enough of a good deed for the day, between helping Jace and Clary and then this charade with Other Alec.

“I will let you Shadowhunters sort this out,” said Magnus with a little wave, wanting to leave as soon as possible. He still had to sort through Ragnor’s personal effects and nurse his wounded (heart) pride. Letting them discuss, he slowly made his way to the door.

“We can keep him in a room here, can’t we?” Clary piped up, taking a step towards Other Alec, who turned to her with a small smile.

Isabelle could read the fondness in her brother’s doppelgänger without problem. In what world did Alec and Clary get along? Well, in his, apparently.

Alec scoffed, “Yes, I’m sure we can find a cell to hide him in.”

“He’s not a prisoner, Alec.” Jace was quick to step in.

“Hey, what if I stayed with Magnus?” Other Alec suggested, catching the eye of the warlock that had been sneaking off. “I promise I won’t be any trouble and I get to stay out of everyone’s hairs here. If I need to be monitored, then just send someone over. My grumpier self obviously hates that I’m still here and would probably be grateful for it.”

Lydia was seemingly considering it, much to everyone’s shock.

Regular Alec’s groused, “No,” was followed by a stern, “We can send him to the City of Bones.”

Magnus exhaled slowly, walking back to stand between Isabelle and Lydia. “May I have a word with both Alexanders?”

“As Head of the Institute—”

“I would not dream of holding a meeting in your office without you around.” Magnus agreed easily. He wouldn’t have wanted to be left alone with the pair, anyways.

Jace and Clary seemed ready to argue, but one look between the parabatai had Jace tugging the redhead away and out of the office. Isabelle, who was just about to follow, was stopped by Other Alec’s hand on her arm.

The younger brunette turned to her actual brother, looking for guidance. Magnus tried not to feel too satisfied that Alec was beginning to feel the same pain he had dealt with when Alec had rubbed it in that Magnus wasn’t worth much of anything. What demonic energy that thrived off of his negativity was easily overpowered by his own soft heart; wanting to spare those he’d come to see as one of his own all the heartache.

Even Lydia, it seemed, knew that Isabelle’s presence needed to be decided by Alec.

“Fine,” Alec said, after a moment.

“It’s unlikely that he has enough Angel blood to s-stay in the City of Bones.” Magnus saved himself from saying _survive the City of Bones_ just in time. “Between that and all the protective wards around him, he might read more warlock than nephilim. But that doesn’t mean he has to stay here.”

Lydia caught on quickly. “The nearest High Warlock within the territory of the Institute is legally allowed to house those which the Institute either cannot or will not. There’s a lot of paperwork that needs to be signed by both the High Warlock, the Head of the Institute, and a third unbiased party, but with two out of three already here, I can easily draw them up.”

“So I _can_ stay with you?” Other Alec’s excitement soothed the tension that had lined Magnus’ shoulder somewhat, but no one was numb to Alec’s anger.

Alec shifted, clenching his fists. “He can’t just be left alone and out of bounds.”

“And we cannot assume that you would do this for free, Magnus, nor that it would not interfere with your own duties.” Lydia added, ever the diplomat.

“Then assign him a guard.” Magnus shrugged, aiming and achieving nonchalance as he stepped to stand a little behind Other Alec so that he was partially hidden from Regular Alec’s ire. “Shift them round the clock, if you wish. I have available rooms for him and whomever you assign.”

“And the price?” Alec countered, anger palpable. “I assume you’re done doing things _pro bono_.”

Oh, Magnus did regret making that joke before Isabelle’s trial now. _Alas._ He tapped his nails against his necklaces, rings and dark nails glinting against the light. It was definitely a problem. He’d become too intertwined with the events within the Institute, and the continued free work he’d been doing for them was bad for both entities. The Institute couldn’t be seen as depending upon a warlock, and the High Warlock couldn’t be seen answering to the Institute’s every beck and call without remittance.

“I’m sure I can come to an agreement with Lydia that would not hurt the Institute’s coffers. Money and objects aren’t the only modes of payment I accept, contrary to my reputation.” He had no idea what the Institute could possibly have to offer him, but his own curiosity to figure out the truth behind Other Alec was reason enough to take him in. “What information I can gather from him about the Shadow World of his dimension can constitute as half.”

“I’d tell you everything I know,” offered Other Alec readily, squeezing Isabelle’s arm.

“And if we want that information as well?” Alec loomed behind Lydia like a shadow, a stark contrast to the blonde’s put upon calm.

“Then we shall come up with some other payment.” Magnus tried not to let his own irritationshow, scrunching his face and shaking his head. He smiled, waving his hand at Isabelle, “Ah, how about a bodyguard? A set number of hours in which I can ask for a Shadowhunter to join me when needed for one task or another. But…”

Alec felt his skin crawl, all the moments he’d been alone with Magnus flashing before his mind. Whether the churning in his stomach was due to anticipation or apprehension, he wasn’t sure. He studied Magnus closely, taking in the silver necklaces and violet top that went well with the blue in his hair and the cerulean of his pants. Though the atmosphere was far from accommodating, Magnus did well to hide his discomfort. If Alec hadn’t known better, he would have believed that Magnus was actually still as frivolous as they had all first thought.

“For all our dislike of paperwork and,” he glanced between the engaged couple, “Our combined wish to keep this incident from the Clave, you can recognize him as a young warlock that made a mistake and falls under my jurisdiction. He should then simply be returned to me as his High Warlock.”

“You would lose your leverage for the Institute to owe you something?” Alec refused to believe that, but the thought of Magnus simply taking Other Alec in was enough to set him off anyways.

“If you still wish to garner information, then I would ask payment for that, but not for his lodging and living expenses.”

Refusing to back down, Alec countered, “And if we were to be the ones to acquire information?”

A twitch in Magnus’ brow was the only indication of his waning patience. “You would risk the Clave finding out you were harboring a dimension-hopping Mundane? The very people Shadowhunters are supposed to protect…but from a different realm altogether. More than that, the Seelies would demand he be turned over to their realm…which I suppose, is another option.”

“No! No handing me over to anyone other than Magnus or Iz.” Other Alec insisted, head turning from Magnus and Alec in panic. “I’m right here and I deserve to be heard. Besides, I’m willing to cooperate with information and I swear I’ll stay in his apartment if I really can’t be allowed anywhere else. Just give me some wine and I’ll be fine.”

Lydia, sick of the exchange, nodded at Magnus. “So what would our contract then appear as?”

“Just an exchange of information and services. One Shadowhunter for information on an alternate dimension’s Shadow World. No record of his arrival or who he is, only that I had information that I knew to be true and request a guard in return.”

For all that Alec hated the situation, he (and everyone) understood the significance of Magnus’ offer. There would be no paper trail of Other Alec’s existence. No incriminating evidence could be chalked up to him, and therefore, none could be pinned against Alec, where this entire thing was concerned. It would be Magnus taking the fall for any information passed on to the Institute, and it would be Lydia’s signature reflecting that she had verified the same.

It protected both Alecs at cost to either or both Magnus and Lydia.

Alec’s stomach churned uncomfortably.

“And is there anyone in particular you would have in mind as a guard?”

“Our dear Isabelle seems like a fair choice.” Magnus replied with a shrug, to the surprise of all but Other Alec, who didn’t seem to care outside of his being able to be with the warlock. “The same number of hours that this Lightwood remains under my protection, I will have Isabelle Lightwood as my chosen guard within the next five years.”

“Isabelle?” Lydia knew she could easily accept and the younger Lightwood would be bound to it, but she supposed she owed Isabelle this much after having prosecuted her.

“That…that sounds fine to me.” Isabelle met Alec’s gaze, conveying both apology and confusion in just a single look. “I trust Magnus wouldn’t abuse the opportunity. And with the five-year limit, I’m sure he wouldn’t waste it.”

“You can’t do that!” Alec stepped in front of Lydia, lessening the space between he and his counterpart.

“I’m pretty sure you’re better off with me there than here.” Other Alec let go of Isabelle’s arm, matching Alec’s own glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think we both know why you’re so pissed off at me.”

And there it was. An acknowledgement that there was something that seemed to reflect true to both Alexander Lightwoods that their Alec refused to have in the open. It was Isabelle’s turn to hold on to Other Alec, fingers tight on his elbow.

“As interesting as everyone’s discomfort is,” Magnus’ voice betrayed none of his own discomfort as he placed a hand on Isabelle’s shoulder and squeezed, hoping she understood it to mean that she should take Other Alec. “I do have work to be done and Ragnor’s items to sift through, so I shall leave this here for you to peruse and sign. As there will no longer be an unbiased third party needed, I expect we have nothing else to speak of.”

A contract appeared on Lydia’s desk, charmed for his signature to appear once she placed hers without changing the terms.

“Alec, I’ll leave it to you to handle scheduling the shifts to look after him. For now, we’ll keep him to Magnus’ place and the Institute, always with a guard of either you, Isabelle, Jace or Clary.” Lydia was quick to take over. “I will inform Jace and Clary of our decision and brief Maryse as the previous Head. Everyone else will be told that he’s a warlock from another dimension that’s only waiting to be returned. He’s protected by the Institute for looking like a variation of you, but stays at Magnus’ for being Head Warlock.”

The door shut behind Lydia, leaving three Lightwoods and a Magnus.

“I can't wait to see if our apartment’s the same one in my universe.” Other Alec rounded on Magnus with a grin. “Do you have a little curio shop too? Do you talk to normal people? Are you always so glittery? God, it’s so weird to see you in this get up when we aren’t going to a bar or a concert. My man can definitely dress up.”

_Oh._

“Alec,” Isabelle took half a step towards her older brother, grip tightening on his copy.

Other Alec, realizing what he had said, lost all excitement and tension that had been bubbling in him. He looked at the way Alec and Isabelle seemed to have an entire conversation with just their eyes, knowing that he and his sister were much the same.

“I’ll take our visitor off your hands,” Magnus cut in, moving to stand by the door. This was not something for them to be a part of, and though he’d said he had matters to attend to, he knew Other Alec was better off with him than left with Alec and Isabelle in that moment. “Feel free to send security or message me the schedule. I’ll be sure to relay the message.”

Isabelle let go of Other Alec, who was more than willing to follow after Magnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo there's that. Haha! No set update schedule yet, though I'm still ahead so probably weekly updates.


	2. Day Zero: The Loft

“Why didn’t you just portal us into your apartment?”

“He wished to test a theory, and I admit my own curiosity has me indulging him.” Magnus had a bit of an idea what Other Alec was planning, and so inclined his head for him to go ahead.

The warlock had been surprised that Isabelle had ran up to them just as they were leaving the Institute, telling them she would be taking first shift.

The pair stood at the wall perpendicular to the doors of Magnus’ loft, watching as their newest mundane company pulled a ring out of his pocket and put it on. Isabelle felt her breath catch, the glint of the ring in the well-lit hall and it’s place on his left ring finger telling of what it was. Magnus’ stomach was in knots. Between what had just happened and the surprise that Isabelle had been sent to join them despite what conversation that Magnus thought should have followed their dimension-hopper’s reveal, Magnus didn’t think he had it in him for more surprises.

Alec pressed his hand against the door and murmured a few words that had Magnus tensing. The warlock forced himself to loosen up though, understanding that this must have been something Other Magnus would have shared with his beau. Confused and concerned, Isabelle turned to Magnus, but relaxed when she saw the small melancholic smile that had settled on the warlock’s lips as the doors opened with no one touching the knob.

Alec turned to them with a bright smile, a sight that had Isabelle’s heart aching. How long had it been since she’d seen that expression on her brother’s face?

“I’m not actually going to be Alexander Lightwood for much longer,” he said, stepping into the loft.

Magnus gestured for Isabelle to go ahead, not quite as surprised as she was. He’d seen the way this Alec had been drenched in his (Other Magnus’) magic, and his own had reacted accordingly, taking him in and reacting as if he were Magnus himself. Not only was he protected, but the intensity with which he was told Magnus that there was a deep bond there.

“In my dimension, it’s been three years since your Clary arrived and helped my Magnus regain his powers. Since then, after… _a lot_ …Magnus and I have been engaged for a year now.” He let his left hand rest on his chest, the other tucked carelessly in his pants pocket.

The intricate B inscribed into the ring was more prominent than ever, and one glance at Magnus’ hand told Isabelle that there was only one Magnus B that Alec could be pertaining to.

And that’s where Isabelle’s heart shattered. This was it, wasn’t it? This was definitive sign that Alec could— _would_ —be so much happier if he let himself reach for it.

“Would anyone like a drink? After everything that’s happened, I do believe we need it.” Magnus headed straight for the bar to mix something up for all three of them, needing the distraction from the very big neon _what if_ sign that currently stood in his living room.

_Engaged._

He’d never been married before.

With a slight shake of his head, he focused on the task at hand.

“Why didn’t you tell us that in the beginning?” Isabelle stamped down the feeling of betrayal that wished to settle within her. This man owed them nothing, and for them to believe that he had been fully honest with them despite knowing so much of the Shadow World, might just bite them in the ass.

“I don’t trust them,” was Alec’s quick reply, looking to Magnus, who only raised a brow at him as he continued fiddling behind the bar. “But you’re my sister,” he took a step towards her, hands behind himself. “There isn’t a dimension you’d hurt me. And Mags— my Magnus has assured me that there probably isn’t a warlock that wouldn’t recognize that I was his.” He scrunched up his nose, “Well, at least in my dimension.”

“And it does hold true,” agreed Magnus, voice once again light, bringing them their drinks. “You were able to pass my wards without problem, after all.”

“That’s why I wanted to stay with you.” Alec smiled, open and welcoming, and identical to the first few times Magnus had met the man’s version in this dimension. “I trust you. Even when I first met Mags, I liked him like I’ve never let myself like anyone in a long time. He didn’t even have to try—neither of us did. I knew there was something about him that meant I would never regret getting to know him. Eventually, the curiosity and attraction settled into respect and trust and…” _love_.

Isabelle looked between them, feeling uneasy. How was it that despite the space between them all, she still felt as if she were intruding on an intimate moment?

She knew something had happened between Magnus and her brother; something that had turned what relationship they had for the worse. Especially earlier, there was no mistaking the way Alec had watched Magnus. It was as if he were looking at something he wanted but wouldn’t let himself have, and when Other Alec had so simply shown his preference for Magnus, Isabelle had seen the panic and frustration in her brother’s eyes.

Magnus downed his drink, wishing he’d made himself something stronger and immediately refilling his glass. To hear such familiar words — words he’d unloaded unto this dimension’s Alec — come from Alec (granted, a different one, but one that nonetheless seemed to be fundamentally similar to this dimension’s) pained him in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

Alec seemed to realize he’d made a mistake even larger than that he’d already let slip at the office, and shifted his stance and took a long slow sip of his beverage. He hadn’t meant to cause any trouble, but then again he also did have a bit of an impulse control issue. Mags had often found it endearing. Jace and Iz had found it hilarious.

“You’re definitely one of a kind, darling,” replied Magnus, finding himself unwilling to use any of Alec’s names. It just tasted bitter on his tongue by then. He drank some more, eyes darting all over the place for a means to ground himself.

“I promise not to be so…” Alec motioned to himself. “As much as I dislike the angry emo me you have here, I do understand where he’s coming from, and can vaguely guess what I might unwittingly end up doing to his reputation or whatever. I do get the importance of keeping up an image—built a career out of it, even.”

_Image._

_Career._

_Honor._

Magnus needed more alcohol.

“Alec’s engaged too.” Isabelle murmured, looking down at the wineglass Magnus had given her. “To Lydia.”

The warlock returned to the bar, pouring himself a generous serving of whiskey and subsequently downing it.

Alec made a face, but said, “I will withhold any other reaction because I don’t know our versions in this universe, but the Lydia in my world is happily married and would kick my ass for even pretending to flirt with her while nursing her twins.” He rolled his eyes. “At the same time.”

“Isabelle, would you be alright here with him?” Magnus vanished his newly-emptied glass to prevent himself from drinking any more considering all that he still had to accomplish that day.

“Well, yes, but,” Isabelle frowned, “Is everything okay?”

“I suppose.” He shrugged. “Matters regarding my friend’s passing need to be addressed, and I do still have client orders to attend to. I’ll be sure to return by eight so you can head back to the Institute. Unless you’ve been asked to remain here…?”

“No, no. I don’t think that’s necessary. If I know Alec, he’ll probably have us in twelve-hour shifts. Either eight to eight or nine to nine—unless you’re going to be up earlier that that?” She raised a brow at Alec, who hadn’t looked away from Magnus, much to Isabelle’s concern and Magnus’ confusion.

“Well, it depends on Magnus, I think?” Alec angled his head to the side, and had he been the Alec of this dimension, his Deflect Rune would have been more prominent. As it were, the bare expanse of skin only served to remind Magnus just how wrong his world was. “I used to join Mags for tai-chi or yoga, and he does them at sunrise, so I’ve kinda taken on that practice too?”

“I usually do that far before sunrise, before heading to bed, because I have…” _court duties_. He shot a quick look at Isabelle. Shadowhunters weren’t always privy to Downworld Customs. What the Clave thought they knew (and therefore taught their people) were either absolutely wrong or lacked various nuances and fostered a disconnect between the two worlds. “Matters to attend to.”

A look seemed to pass Alec’s face as he regarded Magnus, the bright spark of interest shining brighter before quickly being masked by polite curiosity.

“Eight will be fine. Any client I have will arrive at 9:30 in the earliest, if any.” He waved at them, “The fridge is stocked and my room and office are off limits. Otherwise, please, make yourself at home. There are two guest rooms down the hall. Will you have someone stationed here at night?”

“Not tonight,” replied Isabelle. “And I don’t think we would. We’ve imposed upon you enough, I think.”

There was no move to correct her, and Isabelle watched as Magnus turned to leave once more, only for Alec to call out to him.

“See you later, baby.”

Magnus pivoted slowly, offering a smile and a roll of his eyes. “Do behave, _baby._ ” A quick snap and he was off to Ragnor’s home.

Alec’s grin was wide and teasing, setting Isabelle a little on edge. She didn’t think her Alec had ever looked at a virtual stranger like that. But then, despite being from different worlds, this Alec seemed to equate her and Magnus to people he knew. The Alec before her was a far cry from the one she had grown up with, but then he shifted and fell back into the familiar parade rest her brother usually adopted that it gave her whiplash.

“What do you want to know?”

Isabelle’s mind, overflowing with questions earlier, was surprisingly blank as she took in the sight of the man before her. Gone was the easy banter with Magnus and the aggression towards Regular Alec; in their place was a fondness she associated with the Alec of her childhood—when they’d been young and relatively free of the weight of their futures.

“And because I feel like I just broke you, why don’t I start?” He sat himself on one of the couches comfortably, giving everything a quick glance before smiling back up at Isabelle. “Where’s Simon?

“Simon?”

“Yeah, he and Clary are attached at the hip in my world. Even when she went and became Mrs. Jace Herondale, she and Simon still were—”

“Wait, what did you say?”

“What?”

“Jace? Herondale?”

“Uh…yeah? Oh wait are they not together here too?”

“Wait, shit, I need to call them.”

And it was barely twenty minutes later that they were joined by the couple, with Alec having learned that they were dumb enough to think they were siblings because some villain said so. But then again, it checked out. He’d pocketed his ring once again, pressing his forefinger to his lips to ask Isabelle not to mention the matter. There was no need to bring his marriage up when things between the Alec and Magnus of this world seemed so far from what it was in his own.

“Herondale?” Jace echoed after Alec had narrated the love story of Mr. and Mrs. Jace Herondale. The Herondales and Morgensterns had always moved in the same social circles, which made them meeting practically inevitable. However, when Celine Herondale passed away due to cancer, Jace and his father Stephen relocated to be closer to Celine’s family, which was incidentally where the Lightwoods had been. Jace grew close to the Lightwoods and eventually followed Alec out to New York, where the latter had been invited to a bar opening by his friends.

It was there that Jace had (re)met Clary, and the rest was history. Both sides of their families loved them for each other, and the only reason they hadn’t married straight out of college was that they’d elected to study abroad—in different countries. When they’d returned, it took only about three months for them to tie the knot and as of his leaving his dimension, they were celebrating about five months of marriage.

Jace and Clary stumbled out of Magnus’ apartment after Alec had suggested they get a blood test done, leaving Alec once again in Isabelle’s company.

“They really needed that,” she watched him put his engagement ring back on, then looked out the balcony, seeing the sun begin to set. “So you and Jace have pretty much settled down in your world, huh?”

“You are too.” Alec pointed out with a shrug. “I mean, not officially yet, but my Iz doesn’t know that her boyfriend has asked me, Jace, and Max for permission to marry her.”

He could see interest and hesitation in her eyes, so he left her to ponder what else she wanted to ask of him as he headed to the kitchen. Imposing as he was upon Magnus, he might as well whip something up for them all. He left his blazer on one of the couches, undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. The way Isabelle’s eyes fixated on his bare arms wasn’t lost on him.

“So is this apartment the same as the one in your world?” Isabelle asked instead, and Alec couldn’t help his smile at the same insecurity-hidden-by-curiosity that seemed inherent to both variations of his sister.

“Mostly, I suppose.” He shrugged, pulling out pots and ingredients for a Spaghetti Bolongese and finding most things on muscle memory alone. “Some furniture are different, of course. And what I’m assuming is your Magnus’ office is probably mine in our world, since Mags tends to work in his curio shop. Any readings is usually done in the living room for privacy. Oh and we have only one guest room, but then again maybe that’s more a magic thing than an actual apartment thing…?”

“You are taking the entirety of being in a different dimension well.”

As he started to chop onions and garlic, Alec replied, “It isn’t as if it were too big a shock. I already knew it existed. Was I surprised? Yes. But I also have faith that Magnus would do everything to bring me back.”

“Which one?”

“Hm?”

“Which Magnus are you talking about?”

With an arched brow, he said, “Both."

“You trust Magnus Bane that much?”

A small smile and chuckle escaped Alec without meaning to. “I don’t know enough about what happened here between your Magnus and Alec, but if there’s anything I know for sure, it’s that Magnus wouldn’t turn his back on someone who genuinely needs help. Even if I do look like his ex.”

“Not his ex,” Isabelle corrected as she leaned on her hands, watching Alec move with ease in the kitchen. “Magnus and Alec…they were never together.”

“Cause your brother’s so far in the closet he’s in Narnia?” Alec clicked his tongue, opening a can of tomatoes and tomato paste. “Sorry, sorry, that was rude.”

“I don’t really understand that.” An Izzy that didn’t understand a nerdy reference. Huh. Alec filed that away for more prodding later. “But Alec…he’s spent his life living by the laws of the Clave.” She seemed to want to say more, but he didn’t dig despite having a clue of what it would have been. “Ever since everything with Clary and Valentine started, we— _he’s_ just been thrown into the deep end and left to swim without being taught how. He’s always—”

“Taken care of you and Max? Made sure you didn’t get hurt when Mom and Dad were on a warpath? Became brother and father, but only sometimes friend and confidant?”

The sizzle of the onions and garlic hitting the oil accompanied the scent that wafted throughout the room. Alec added the ground beef in and stirred.

Startled, Isabelle nodded. “He took care of Jace too…Was it the same with you?”

“In different ways, but I suppose we have a natural disposition for taking care of our siblings.” He paused thoughtfully, prodding at the cooking meat. “Mom and Dad weren’t the best at being loving parents until I’d— _we_ were practically adults. I mean, can you see your mom reacting any positive way where I’m concerned?”

Her silence was answer enough.

“This…marriage to Lydia…is it political? Or is he at least Bi?” _Because I’m not,_ hung in the air unsaid. He preheated the oven and pulled out some butter.

“I…He’s never said, but he’s the one who proposed to Lydia.” She watched him add some herbs and then the tomato paste and mix. “It’s been…The Lightwoods used to be a well-respected name among Shadowhunters.”

“Mags told me that our lot basically ruled New York.”

“The New York Institute has been ruled by a Lightwood for six generations,” said Isabelle. “Alec grew up knowing that he was going to have to step up when the time came. Just so happened that everything that’s happened brought to light that our parents weren’t as clean as they’d been pushing us to be.”

“Everyone has a past.” Alec poured in the tomatoes and added some parsley before seasoning with salt and pepper. He took out another pot for the pasta, filling it with water and a lot of salt. A small bowl was filled with garlic and butter, then microwaved.

“But their mistakes are coming to bite us in the ass. Alec thinks marrying Lydia is the only way to keep our place in the Institute.”

“And Lydia?”

When she didn’t immediately reply, Alec returned his attention to her. It was the first time he’d seen this Isabelle undeniably stumped. Ah. Lines had been drawn and Lydia seemed to have been on the other side. He took the garlic butter and spread it over the slices of baguette he’d found before throwing them into the oven.

“In my world, Lydia and I became good friends over the course of our careers. We run a company together and she’s always been in love with John Monteverde. Painfully so. They’re almost as bad as Jace and Clary with the PDA, but it’s changed since she had the twins, thank god.”

“She had me arrested and tried for treason.” Isabelle said, before continuing to explain what had transpired a mere few days ago.

“Taste this,” said Alec, offering a small spoonful of the sauce to Isabelle before throwing in the pasta into the boiling water. He had no words to offer what the Isabelle before him had been through, but he hoped some good food would at least go a fair bit into soothing her. Maybe mac and cheese would have been a better option. His sister had always loved that.

“This is really good!”

“Thank you,” he lowered the heat on the sauce and then stirred the pasta. “I couldn’t begin to imagine what you went through, but you at least had Alec with you?”

“He was the only one there,” she admitted. “I talked him into getting Magnus to defend me, but other than them, no one else in my family had been there.”

“You’re counting Magnus as family?”

“He’s as good as, I think.” _Especially considering you and what he means to you._

A portal opened in the living room, and Isabelle could see the subtle shift in Alec that told her their discussion was safe to remain between them. The crooked smile he sent her reassured her even further.

“What is that wonderful smell?” Magnus asked, joining them with a bottle of red wine.

By the time Isabelle left, it was nearing ten in the evening. The dinner had been pleasant and filled with conversation that ranged from what Alec’s world was like as well as what the Shadowhunters of this world were currently ensnared in. Magnus offered what little of the Downworld he knew he could share, but he was mostly content to watch the pair of not-really-siblings relax and get to know each other.

They’d all gravitated towards the balcony after they’d eaten, with Magnus’ magic taking care of clean up. And when it was only Alec and Magnus left, it took everything in the latter not to openly observe the former. It wasn’t helpful that he could feel the way Alec’s eyes bore into him either.

“I’m sorry about Ragnor.” Alec pressed his lips together, moving so that he was leaning against the brick by the fire escape. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s one of the reasons I insisted I stay with you. Other than you being one of two people I’m a hundred percent sure I can trust, I also found out he’d just died here, and…” He made no move to reach out, though they both knew that he’d wanted to. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Magnus twitched, “In your world…?”

“He teaches chemistry and we have dinner with him and Catarina every couple of weeks. You see them more often than I do, of course.”

“Is he still a warlock?”

“Yes, but not as strong as you have been since Clary rebooted your magic. He was…a High Warlock…?”

It really shouldn’t have surprised Magnus. His friend had been powerful in life. If he hadn’t lost practice in the more offensive aspects of magic, he might have stood with Magnus today, berating him for involving himself with the Angel-blooded once again but still offering what help he could. His fingers tapped at his knee absent-mindedly.

“Cat’s the most consistent with using her powers, not considering Tessa and the Spiral Labyrinth.” Alec settled himself against the doorframe with a small shift, taking in the sight of Magnus’ living room scattered with various items that had once belonged to Ragnor Fell. They’d appeared as soon as Isabelle had left, and he supposed it was a matter of respect and intimacy, not to let Ragnor’s items be seen or dealt with by those Magnus did not fully trust.

Brown skin crinkled as Magnus smiled, “Thank you.”

And he was.

For more than just the assurance that he wasn’t alone in this Alec’s world. His presence now, though Magnus was tempted to glamour him to look different, was a bit of a balm to his grief. At least there was a world where he and his friends still stood the test of time. And from what Alec’s shared, they seemed to be bringing the mundane before him in as well.

Though no words were exchanged, Magnus had the distinct feeling that Alec understood nearly all that he wished to convey in the simple words.

Magnus gave his new guest a wide berth as he walked back into the loft, trying (and failing) to not give him an appreciative once over. There may have been baggage between he and this dimension’s Alec, but Magnus could still appreciate a good-looking person. He picked up one of Ragnor’s quills, twiddling it between his fingers.

Alec was unbothered, more flattered really, looking up at him from beneath his lashes. “Will you be going through Ragnor’s stuff tonight?”

“I might as well. Between you and the search for the Book of the White, the sooner I go through them, the better.” A wave of his hand and one of Ragnor’s journal’s was in his palm as he placed the quill behind his ear. If there was any warlock that would have notes on (successful) inter-dimensional travel.

“Would you like some help?” Alec pushed himself off of the frame, walking towards the man that felt both familiar and utterly new to him.

“That’s kind of you, Alexander.”

They froze at that.

Between his emotional exhaustion and the vulnerability he found himself succumbing to whenever in the presence of Regular Alec, Magnus had wanted nothing more than to drink himself to sleep or lose himself in Pandemonium. With neither of those available to him, Magnus would have to settle for having to face the reality that one of his oldest friends was gone and sitting before him is the carbon copy of the person who’d…

_You’ve unlocked something in me._

He was grateful when the Alec before him didn’t pry where his relationship with the local Alec was concerned, because he wouldn’t have even been able to adequately articulate it himself.

With a slow exhale, Magnus opened the journal.

“You can call me Alec, you know.”

Magnus didn’t bother hiding his distaste, looking up to find that only a coffee table separated him and Alec. Though he seemed genuine, Magnus could see the impish grin Alec was trying to suppress.

“Mags calls me Alexander when he’s mad or…we’re having sex,” Alec shrugged, unrepentant. When Magnus’ tight-lipped smile resurfaced, he felt it was more than worth it.

“I shall stick to _not_ calling you by your name.”

“I went through a week of testing different — _very sweet_ — nicknames for Mags, you know. Darling, sweetheart, kitten…even tried babe and honey.”

And because he was apparently a masochist, Magnus asked, “And what did you settle on?”

“Mags,” he sat on the couch opposite Magnus, then smirked, “Magnus or kitten for when we’re alone.”

Even Magnus could appreciate the way Alec managed to uncoil the tension that had settled between them from his slip up. “I will stick to Alec, then.”

“Yes, and Alexander can be for _your_ Alec.”

“Ah, but I have no Alec.”

“Iz seems to think otherwise.”

“Isabelle, while well-meaning, does not know everything.”

“Then tell me.”

Spoke to soon on the not prying, then. “What do you hope to achieve in hearing about how I’ve been consistently rebuffed by your version in this world?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe you just need someone to listen.”

And though Alec might be right, Magnus refused to let himself stop thinking and start feeling.

“Or, we can just sit here and look through all these journals and things,” offered Alec as he let his fingers brush some of the more obscure musical instruments that sat on the coffee table.

“You can look for anything that mention the Book of the White or dimensions in general.” Magnus didn’t know why, but he knew telling Alec to sleep would be fruitless. He might as well get the man to help himself return to his world.

“Okay, _baby_.”

Magnus threw a different journal at Alec with a roll of his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the angst only escalates from here, I'm afraid. Haha!
> 
> Thank you for all the encouragement! Between the kudos and the comments, I'm looking forward to seeing how everyone feels about the rest of the story. :)


	3. Day One: The Institute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of Conversion Therapy and Suicide, but not discussed in-depth
> 
> those tags have also been added to the work tags as a precaution

Alec watched the way Magnus move around, taking in every similarity and difference he had with his own Mags. Where Mags would go about the start his day with a cup of coffee and yoga in their living room while in boxers, Magnus drank coffee in his silk robe and went right back to bed. Where Mags would start making breakfast (or kiss him when it was his turn) while humming some soft tune to himself, Magnus had music playing that he liked to dance to. Where Mags would throw on soft pastel colors and a neutral sweater, Magnus donned bold colors and magicked matching colors in his hair.

Though for all the differences he could spot, the one thing Alec found the exact same was the lost look in the warlocks’ eyes whenever they left their bedroom.

As if they weren’t sure where or when in the world they were.

Then their eyes would land on him and the look would change.

As if they were surprised he were still there (though he supposed in Magnus’ case, that he was there at all).

He placed a serving of bacon, eggs, and waffles on the table for Magnus, and keeping only waffles and a good amount of powdered sugar on his own.

“Chairman got your tongue?” Alec grinned at the bewildered look on Magnus’ face.

“You know I can use magic, right?”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.” He tugged on the sleeves of the maroon sweater he’d chosen for the day, “Or that you have to. I’m more than happy to cook while I’m here.”

Magnus squinted up at him, “I’d say I think you’re hiding something, but that’d be lying.” He started on his breakfast, forking some eggs on to the waffles.

“Oh?”

“Magic,” offered Magnus, pointing a knife at him without any weight. “I _know_ you haven’t been entirely up front about everything, but I also know that you wouldn’t have been able to enter my home if you meant me or your version of me any harm.”

“That’s why you agreed to take me in.” Alec smiled despite himself.

The warlock nodded, continuing to eat. “Of course. As wonderful as the young group of Shadowhunters you’ve met so far have been, the institution in itself isn’t particularly kind to change or new… _anything_.” Magnus waved his fingers. “People or experience alike are often either persecuted or destroyed amongst the Clave.”

“See? I knew I could trust you.” He was absolutely grinning now. “You may have more glitter than my Mags, but you’re definitely still him.” Alec reached out and placed a hand over Magnus’, which the latter had left on the table holding his fork.

They froze, looking at each other, and Alec retracted his hand.

“That felt weird,” he scrunched up his face. “Like, I see you, and I know you aren’t Mags, but I touch you and things don’t really compute in my head.”

Magnus hummed in agreement. “It’s a part of my other self’s protection on you. Warlocks would register your touch as having my magic. Usually, that means we’d call to each other; like attracts like and all.”

“Isn’t the saying _opposites attract_?” Alec teased, much to Magnus’ amusement.

The warlock continued without batting an eye, “But the protection wards make it so that you’re aware if anyone tries to siphon your magic—even if they didn’t intend to.”

Alec’s eyes widened, heart feeling impossibly full and warm at the amount of thought and care Mags had poured into the spell for him. He’d known it was meant to protect him, but he hadn’t truly understood all that it entailed.

Wanting to return to a lighter tone, Magnus smirked, “Or it could also be that it’s weird to touch a Magnus that isn’t your _Mags_.”

“Aww, don’t worry, _Magsie_ , I’ll come up with another name _just_ _for_ _you_.” He cackled.

An hour later found Magnus and Alec taking a portal to the Institute, where Isabelle, Jace, and Clary were waiting for them.

“I’ve given him access through my wards,” said Magnus in lieu of a greeting to the trio. Not entirely true, but it wasn’t as if they could verify it. He didn’t need to give something that Alec already had. “If he were to return earlier than I can come by to pick him up, then he can access it, though he can’t extend the same courtesy to anyone else unless he tells me in advance. I will try to be done by eight, but can’t make any promises. You might as well keep him for dinner.”

“Gee, way to hand me over to the babysitter, _dad_ …dy.”

The shadowhunters looked between them curiously, tensing at the pet name, and Magnus couldn’t help but chuckle. This Alec Lightwood spelled trouble for the Institute. He only wished he could have front row seats to it. And while a part of him delighted in it, Magnus also knew that this might unnecessarily endanger Isabelle’s brother.

Magnus raised a hand to pat Alec’s shoulder, but stopped himself with a little flicker of his fingers. “ _Behave_ ,” He raised a finger to his own lips, grinning and then winking, “ _Baby_.”

Positively glowing, Alec chirped, “Okay, Daddy.”

He portalled out of there before anyone else could ask him any questions. Let the dimension-traveler field any confusion.

With a cheeky grin, Alec turned to his babysitters for the day as the portal closed. Variations of confusion and apprehension were on their faces, but he said nothing of the interaction.

“So who’s supposed to look after me today, and what are we going to do?” He shifted his stance, falling back on his heels and placing his hands behind his back. “I assume I look…” _less colorful? More straight? Less likely to be thought of as gay? Acceptably like Shadowhunter Alexander Lightwood?_

Isabelle took in the dark jeans and black sweater. Understated and plain. If she hadn’t known any better, she’d have thought he’d gotten items straight from her brother’s closet. She was pretty sure she had that exact sweater after having swiped it from Alec, after all.

“Thank you,” she held out a hand to him. “We thought you might want a tour of the Institute. You’re technically under Clary’s watch, but Jace and I don’t have any missions lined up right now, so we’ll stick around for a bit.”

His hand was softer and smoother than her brother’s, Isabelle noted when he’d accepted hers, which was more a testament to the different lifestyles the two had, than anything else.

A little before lunch, they’re at the training room, where Regular Alec was sparring with Hodge Starkweather. The sight had Alec furrowing his brows briefly, though he quickly schooled his features when his tour guides looked at him. The Starkweather from his world had been Valentine’s right hand man; loyal to a fault, but also incredibly short-sighted, having nearly gotten his world’s Jace hurt by misleading him at Valentine’s request. For all that the Morgensterns of his world had ended up loving and accepting his Jace, there had been a fair bit of trial to get to the where they were.

Maybe he’d tell them.

They eventually led him to the dining hall, and he was relieved to note that conversation between the four of them hadn’t dried up nor gone sour. Isabelle was every bit accommodating as his own sister, though with less pop culture (or Simon) references. Clary and Jace were still every bit the lovesick couple of his world, especially fresh off of the newly confirmed knowledge that they weren’t siblings. Clary was still a little high-strung and self-absorbed—but then wasn’t everyone?—while Jace was still every bit overconfident but tactless.

He did his best to abide by his promise to Isabelle and Magnus, holding himself tighter than he had in over a decade. It felt kind of like being a teenager all over again, and being unable to act on who he truly was. All the negativity that threatened to overwhelm him was quickly set aside with a look around and a twist of his (glamoured invisible) engagement ring.

This wasn’t his world, and there was more than just his life to consider. Isabelle, and Jace too, had made it clear that their Alec’s life would be destroyed if he acted anything less than entirely similar to the most law-abiding Lightwood.

Clary, who was supposed to train for the rest of the afternoon, invited him to join her. He’d turned to Isabelle, who simply shrugged and left the decision up to him, to which he’d said yes but told them he didn’t have any change of clothes.

“That’s easy enough. We can just borrow some from Alec.” Jace replied with a shrug. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. C’mon.”

And that was how he found himself in the bedroom of his namesake, with a Jace (Herondale!!) Wayland that very much looked as if he wanted to ask something without outright asking.

The closet opened with a wave of Jace’s magic stick— _it’s called a stele,_ he could hear Isabelle correcting in his mind—and, well, wasn’t _that_ a thought? _Jace’s magic stick opening a closet_. He’d pocket the thought and tell Magnus later. The warlock would probably appreciate the joke. Mags would have.

Unable to help himself, Alec hip-checked Jace to look through what clothes their Alec kept. He wasn’t too surprised at the amount of black, but it didn’t stop from being disappointed. Were colors not allowed when you were a Shadowhunter? _Even straight men wore colors,_ Alec chided his other self. It was as he’d gotten a pair of sweats and a shirt that he realized just how intensely Jace had been watching him.

 _Look at me like that any longer and I’d kiss you._ He bit his tongue, stopping himself from making the quip. His Jace would have made kissy faces and tried to actually lay one on him, though they both knew they were undeniably incompatible and simply platonic, but he didn’t know how this Jace would react. He’d promised Magnus he would behave, so he would.

“Alec’s…”

 _Oh?_ He raised a brow, prompting the blond to continue while he turned his back to Jace and took off his borrowed cashmere sweater.

“Since when did you…” Jace couldn’t seem to figure out how best to phrase his question, and by the time Alec had changed into his borrowed clothes and was slipping on one of Regular Alec’s shoes, he’d decided to take pity on the blond.

“I’ve always been gay.” Alec said with a roll of his eyes. “Between briefly thinking you were cute and then having various crushes on painfully heterosexual men before I got into my first relationship with the cute guy from my history class, I’ve repeatedly realized and proven that I’m very fucking gay.”

“You liked me.”

“Considering you aren’t as surprised as fourteen-year-old Jace when I told him, I assume you either already knew or suspected it.”

Jace thought of Valak, and of the memory his _parabatai_ had valued most. He recalled all the moments before then: of soft smiles and lingering gazes; of gentle hands and unsaid promises. They were each other’s, Jace had always known and accepted it, but just not in the way Alec had apparently found himself feeling.

“You were cute, sweet, and I saw you all the time. My silly little crush on J lasted a good year or two, filled with lots of longing and the misguided thought that maybe we were meant to be ‘cause we were always around each other. Turned out I actually loved him, but more because we shared so much together and were practically in each other’s pockets for most of our lives.” Alec shrugged, “By the time I’d come out to the family, it didn’t matter because I was shipped off to military school for a year only to be pulled back when I attempted suicide—which had noting to do with J, and everything to do with me feeling like I wasn’t worth shit because Mom wanted to send me to conversion therapy and Dad was having an affair.”

Of all the information Alec had just dumped on him, it was Alec’s delivery that struck Jace the most. His voice remained light, and save for a bit of tightening in his eyes, there wasn’t much in the way of an emotional response. It spoke to Jace the same way his own abuse did. He could rehash all that had happened before he was taken in by the Lightwoods without batting an eye, but he knew how hard it was for other’s to swallow whenever he mentioned it.

A clap on the back. Tentative. Awkward. And then Jace was pulling Alec close in a hug similar to plenty he’d shared with his own Alec. Steady. Comforting.

“We should get back to the girls,” grunted Alec as he pulled away. “You should talk to your Alec about this, you know? We might not feel the exact same way, but I know J and I were better off laughing it off after…” He shook his head, waving his hand.

“But how would I…?”

Alec hit Jace’s chest with the back of his hand, “He’s still the same person, you know? And at the end of the day, your love— _your support_ —would mean more than you could ever hope to know.”

“I’ve actually…” At Jace’s wince, Alec had a vague understanding of what Jace was hinting at. “It wasn’t my best moment.”

“Well, you’ve always been a little shit. Guess it transcends universes or something. But really, anything said in the heat of the moment can be talked through with cooler heads.” Alec looked around the sparse room. “At the end of the day, what matters is that you guys talk about it.”

They shared a look reminiscent to a thousand others they’ve shared with their respective best friend and psuedo brother. And with a grin, Jace nodded and led them back to the training room, where Isabelle and Clary were already halfway through a match.

* * *

“You’re good for a Mundane.” Jace remarked as they ended their session. They had trained until dinner time, with Alec pleasantly surprising the Shadowhunters by using moves he’d learned from his Krav Maga lessons. He’d declined the offer to learn how to wield a sword, though he did show interest in learning how to use a Bo Staff, which Jace promised to take the time to teach him during his stay.

When he’d changed back to his own clothes, Clary told him that Jace had gone out for patrol, while Isabelle had been called in to check on something at the Ops Center. They sat together at the Dining Hall, and when Lydia had arrived to have dinner as well, Alec had been quick to call out to her and wave her over to join them.

He could feel the way everyone watched him, but he ignored them all. The hours away from Magnus had been the most unlike himself he’d felt. Sure, he could joke around well enough with the others, but there was always this dimension’s Alec’s image to consider. Maybe it would have been better to stay at the loft. All the play at being hetero was beginning to bring up memories he would have rather forgotten.

“I see you’re settling in easily enough,” Lydia smiled, setting her tray down.

“My babysitters have been great at… _babysitting_.” Alec cupped his chin, elbow propped on the table as he studied his fiancée in this reality. He’d always thought her pretty in that he could understand why someone would be attracted to her, but really, Lydia was _pretty damn great_. She was intelligent without being arrogant, opinionated without being (too) overbearing, and loyal without being blind. He’d thought that of her in his own dimension, and he could recognize it now in this one as well.

“Yes, I saw you with a Bo Staff earlier. You didn’t seem too far out of your comfort zone.”

“I have _some_ self-defense training,” he had wanted to say more; expand upon a bit of his own past for this version of a woman he’d easily call his best friend, but the dark figure that came to loom behind her had him reconsidering. “Good evening, Alexander.”

The subtle stiffening of Regular Alec’s back satisfied Alec like nothing else. He knew that the use of his full first name would get to Regular Alec, because it would have gotten to him had the situations been reversed. It was why he liked that only he got to call Mags, _Mags,_ and only his fiancé got away with calling him _Alex, Alec-love, Lexander,_ and every other variety of his first name outside of ‘Alec’. There was something to be said about the intimacy, possessiveness, and entitlement that names could hold and portray.

“I was under the impression you wouldn’t be here often.”

“I hardly think getting a tour today after arriving yesterday constitutes as _often_.” Alec tugged at his sleeves, folding them so that they rested more neatly at his elbows.

Lydia regarded him thoughtfully, “Hey, where’d you get clothes earlier, by the way? Did Magnus pack you a bag?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Jace let me borrow some of his clothes,” at this he pointed at Regular Alec, “Since I couldn’t very well sweat in Magnus’.” So maybe he was baiting this broody Edward Cullen version of him. He fiddled with the collar of his top, refocusing on Lydia.

“So what’s Lydia like in your world, Alec?” Clary set her utensils down, shifting so that she was facing Alec despite being seated beside him.

There were so many ways to answer the question that Alec almost immediately answered. But then, as Regular Alec took a seat beside Lydia, he knew he’d have to edit a bit unless Lydia herself asked or they were alone. He wasn’t here to cause trouble, after all.

“Well, our families have known each other for years, so we’d known each other as kids before she moved to Seattle for a couple of years. We eventually reunited and got to know each other as adults and ended up working together for a couple of events. Fast forward a couple of jobs and we figured we worked well enough together that we might as well make it official and start our own company. The party you attended was actually the first I’d planned fully alone since she and I started working together.” _Because she’d been pregnant_ , he finished in his head. _And then Mags had appeared like a lucky charm and everything had turned out wonderful ever since._

“I guess the Lightwoods and Branwells really do have a solid partnership.” Lydia smiled, “Well, that’s a good sign for us then, right, Alec?”

Before his counterpart could grit out a reply, Alec went on, “Congratulations on that, by the way! Izzy told me it was gonna happen soon…?”

“At the end of the week,” nodded Lydia. “There’s so much that still needs to be done, especially with all the Clave envoys coming.”

“And I’m sure you’ll do great handling everything,” replied Alec with an honest smile. While every fiber of his being protested the very idea of marrying anyone other than Mags, the constant reminder that this was not his life kept him from saying as much.

More conversations passed between the group, but Alec couldn’t find it in himself to sit still any longer.

“I think Clary and I should go though. Her shift’s almost over, anyways, and I’m feeling pretty exhausted after the day we’ve had.” He slung an arm around Clary’s shoulder, squeezing her briefly to let her know just how much he wanted to get out of there.

The way his chest constricted and the walls felt as if they were closing in on him did not a good day make.

* * *

Alec fiddled with his ring, tucked away as it were in his pants’ pocket. Magnus had helped him spell it so that it was glamored invisible whenever he was outside the loft. The dimension-traveler hadn’t been too happy to have to hide such a tangible symbol of his love, but he understood the necessity nonetheless. Neither of them had counted on Alec spending an extended amount of time at the loft with someone other than Magnus though.

Clary had refused to leave until Magnus returned. And so she was there as he cooked his and Magnus’ dinner, trading stories and laughter, with him dancing around or flat out refusing to answer questions about his dating life until—

“But you’re interested in Magnus too, right?”

Pulling his hand out of his pocket, Alec studied the redhead as he plopped himself on the other side of the couch she’d situated herself on.

“Our Alec’s…” She looked away from the intensity of his gaze, recalling her conversation with Lydia where Alec and Magnus had been concerned, but returned the look unrepentantly. “I don’t think he realizes how loved he is.”

He softened at her words, lips curling up at the corners. “Fear and doubt can be such powerful emotions.” The memory of his own Clary reminding him of the same thing on his worse nights flickered through his mind. “If you’re asking me if I think your Magnus is attractive, then yes. If you’re asking me if I’m not straight, then yes. If you’re asking me if your Alec’s the same, well, you should ask him.”

“He’s so set on carrying out his duties, to preserve the family honor—a-and—” A loud and slow exhale slipped past her lips.

“Clary,” Alec reached out, carefully placing a hand over hers when she didn’t move away. “Why is this so important to you?” _This isn’t your life_ , he wanted to tell her. Magnus and Local Alec could settle this on their own if they wanted.

“Alec is Jace’s parabatai,” she said, as if that explained everything. And, he figured, perhaps for them it did. “And I— _we_ are very grateful for what you’ve done for me and Jace. And for all that Alec’s done for Jace. I want him to be able to have the same shot at happiness Jace and I do; that Izzy does.” Clary turned her hand over and squeezed his, “That even Lydia should have.”

A beat passed where Alec tried to piece his thoughts together. “I’m not supposed to cause any trouble here. Iz— _zy_ has warned me about what Alec’s like. _Family, duty, honor._ Very House Tully. And Jace talked to me a bit about this earlier too. If there's anyone you should be talking about this with that isn’t Alec, it’s probably your boyfriend.”

The sound of a portal opening drew their attention, appearing just by the doors that led to Magnus’ study. Alec smiled at Clary and headed for the kitchen to ensure dinner would be ready for them: baked salmon with fennel and asparagus, paired with Chardonnay he’d found in Magnus’ liquor cabinet.

“Hello, Biscuit,” Magnus’ eyes zoned in on Clary as soon as he stepped out of the portal. “I see you’ve been left to care for our guest.” He shot Alec an amused smile when Clary grinned.

“You make it sound like babysitting me is such a chore,” groused Alec with a roll of his eyes as he placed the food on the table, having already had Clary set the table earlier.

“And have you actually behaved?” Magnus eyed the food with interest, already about to snap his fingers for a drink when Alec stopped him by offering a flute of white wine.

“I’ve been a very good boy today.” Alec poured himself and Clary a drink, “Back me up here, Clary.”

“Yeah, he’s been great, Magnus.” She replied, taking the offered drink and situating herself on a seat. “He even trained with us for a bit and managed to land a hit on Jace.”

“An actual hit too,” nodded Alec. “See, I can be good, daddy.”

Clary almost snorted her drink, looking between the two. Alec sat himself across Clary; and because the round table could only seat four, Magnus would have to sit between them, no matter what.

“You’re a pain, _baby boy_ ,” Magnus sat and turned to Clary, pulling her quickly into conversation.

Alec was grateful for it, feeling the limit of his own extroversion settling on his shoulders. The entire day had felt like an extended production, constantly having to smile and be accommodating to clients and guests. What he wouldn’t give to crawl into bed with Mags and sleep on his chest with his fiancé’s arms around him.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Maybe an hour? Maybe less. But by the time Alec managed to pull himself out of his head, Clary had left and he was manually doing the dishes.

“Put your ring back on.”

Magnus’ voice penetrated through the haze of exhaustion that muddled his brain, and so he fished out the silver band and slid it on with a shake of his head. The effect was instantaneous, soothing him and clearing his consciousness.

“Feeling better?”

He turned to the warlock, confused and still a little disoriented. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Between traveling to a different dimension, the full day you must have had, and the lack of any comfort you’re probably used to, it isn’t hard to guess that you needed to be grounded in some way.” Magnus snapped his fingers, a cup of hot chocolate appearing by the sink. “The wards help in a way because my magic is familiar to you, but that ring would help more, simply because it comes from your dimension and is both yours _and_ _Mags’_.”

Cradling the mug in his hands, Alec let the warmth seep from his palms to his arms. He walked up to Magnus, who stepped aside to let him pass, but crowded the warlock into the counter instead of passing him by.

For a second, Alec wanted to reach up and hold the other man’s face; to cradle it as he’d done a hundred times with Mags. But he didn’t. He ducked his head, looking at the drink in his hands and then at the expression on the warlock’s face. Magnus’ eyes, brown and warm like his drink, widened as he leaned back but otherwise stood his ground.

“Fiddling with it has become a bad habit of mine since we got engaged,” he admitted. A tangible symbol of their commitment to each other. It always made him smile whenever he thought about it—or Mags, really.

Magnus looked at him, confused.

“You shouldn’t be too surprised.”

The space between Magnus’ brows creased, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

At that, Alec brought the mug to his lips, blowing the steam off. He gazed at Magnus from beneath his lashes, a knowing smile threatening to break the sincerity of his sentiment. “You will.”

Really, Magnus wasn’t sure what struck him more about the conversation. That it was reminiscent of a different conversation? That Alec seemed so sure of himself? That Magnus really had no idea what it had meant?

He side-stepped Alec, telling him to rest and that Magnus would be in the living room going through Ragnor’s stuff once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other Alec and Magnus are my brotp for this fic haha
> 
> And a little bit of Parabatai feels too
> 
> Let's see where this goes!


	4. Day Two: The Book

“Try not to get on his nerves or cause any trouble.” Magnus’ fondness was not lost on Alexander, who hadn’t been too comfortable at being the dimension traveler’s bodyguard for the day, but knew that he had to step up anyways.

Other Alec didn’t bat an eye as he stepped right up to Magnus, lips turned up in a mischievous smile, “Not here to cause trouble, _sweetcheeks_.”

“You are incorrigible.” Magnus stepped away from Other Alec, then glided a little further away when he seemed to realize how close Alexander was. He could feel his brow twitch as he fought not to frown.

There was a weariness within him at the thought of leaving Alec under Alexander’s guard. He took note of their differences, as most were prone to do when faced with identical-looking people or things. Alec had donned a forest green shirt and dark pants; a far cry from his usual wardrobe, from what pictures he’d shown Magnus, but an acceptable look for someone connected to Shadowhunter Alec, who wore his usual black shirt and jeans, runes on display. Where Alec had opted to style his hair though, Alexander kept his free of product.

It was odd.

Even with the measures Alec had taken to appease his closeted self’s image, Magnus could still tell that Alec was just playing a part. He’d been upfront about it, yes, but the warlock could sense the undercurrent of resentment in the act— that Alec dealt with it for the sake of his alternate self despite disagreeing with the entire thing.

Magnus filed the thought away for later, nodding at the Shadowhunter. “I’ll be sure to pick him up by seven.”

“Thanks for dropping me off, _Dad_.”

“I have half a mind to turn you into a toad and return you to your dimension that way,” the warlock said with a put upon sigh. “But really, you overgrown child, _behave_.”

Alexander balked at the way Alec’s entire body seemed to soften at Magnus’ dry stare, teeth hiding behind closed lips and stance loosening. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, Magnus,” murmured Other Alec.

Satisfied with the reply, Magnus nodded and left the pair of Alexander Lightwoods, creating a portal to return home.

With Clary having identified a bookmark that she’d seen in a vision as being relevant to the Book of the White when she’d been over for dinner, Magnus had done a quick tracking spell and found out that it was in one of Camille’s apartments in New York. At the very least, he was relieved to have that out of his hands. He would have time to leaf through a few more pages of Ragnor’s journals from the late 19th Century.

His attention was split between the orders he had to prepare for clients and his old friend’s musings. A melancholic smile found its way to his lips as he read through Ragnor’s thoughts on events more than a century ago. So much had changed since then. Ragnor had been the High Warlock of London at the time, and Magnus had stuck around the area, feeling lost and adrift.

So much had changed, and yet so much had stayed the same. The familiar feeling of confusion made Magnus rethink his every action. His connection to the shadowhunters especially, spelled trouble — terrible pun not intended. Only now, Ragnor wouldn’t be around to pull him out of his own head.

As always, he couldn’t help but think of Blackfriars Bridge when thinking of London and his time there. And from there, his thoughts strayed to Camille.

Then his feelings.

And how he’d buried the hurt brought on by Camille’s inability to love him by jumping from bed to bed with various partners.

As if one day one of them would just look at him and—

_“You’ve unlocked something in me_.”

Magnus shut the journal, gritting his teeth. He could feel his magic react to his agitation, flaring and manifesting in blue sparks that ran down his arms. Stretching his arms out wide, Magnus tried one of his breathing exercises to get himself under control. Of course, he knew one sure fire way of working out the kinks of his magic, but he resigned himself to abstaining for a bit.

At least until he was sure he wouldn’t be picturing Alexander when he was in bed with someone else.

The unintelligible grunt of frustration he let out was not something he would ever admit to making, but he once again lamented the near impossibility of him wasting time at Pandemonium. He could perhaps slip away once his guest had fallen asleep, but he was already planning on slipping away to visit Raphael. It wouldn’t be a good idea to be gone for too long.

What a mess.

He manually gathered and packaged the potions he would be delivering for the day, the monotony of the work helping ease a bit of the tension.

Barely an hour later, after having dropped off the last order, he received a text from Clary asking to meet him at his apartment. Not even a second after his return, he was already dreading how exhausting the rest of the day was going to be.

Camille walked into his loft as if she owned the place, and not for the first time, Magnus was relieved that she never actually lived there. “So Magnus, how long has it been? One hundred? One hundred fifty years?”

“One hundred thirty-eight, but oddly, I haven’t missed you.” Magnus didn’t bother with pleasantries where the woman before him was concerned, though the dull throb of what they had been remained in the back of his mind. Ragnor’s passing, especially, made her appearance all the more unpleasant.

“Of course you have, my love.” So sure of herself, as always. He’d been drawn to that confidence, once; had lacked it in himself and sought it in everyone else. How far they’ve both come. His mind drifted to a different type of confidence; of standing firm to protect one’s people and one’s family; of loyalty; of an arrow hitting its mark; of broad shoulders and a runed neck—

Magnus was grateful Clary cut through the conversation. “Alright, you two can catch up later. Right now, we need to find the Book of the White.”

The vampire turned to the redhead, “And you will, but not without payment.” She looked back to Magnus. “You of all people should understand that.”

He didn’t bother hiding his eye-roll. “Of course. And what is it you require?”

“A clean slate.”  
  
Simon was quick to expound, “She wants a Writ of Turning-Me-Into-A-Vampire.”

“And we need you to draft it.” Briefly, Magnus considered snapping his fingers and sending the barely legal pair in his loft away. As much as he disliked Camille, dealing with her as well as two mundane-turned-not-mundanes were not his ideal way to spend the afternoon. They stood in his space as if it were he that owed them something—and he really was not. In. The. Mood.

As wonderful as the dinner he had shared with Clary last night had been, she also hadn’t been all too conducive to Alec’s comfort and peace of mind. As well-meaning as the redhead was, she did have an awful habit of running over everyone to achieve her goals.

Magnus hummed, shaking his head. “I thought I was done with you.”

“We’ll never be done with each other.” Camille assured him with a grin.

Isabelle excused herself then, and Clary did the same, towing Simon away, leaving Camille and Magnus alone in the living room.

“How have you been, my love?” Camille perched on the sofa, blinking up at him in a way that he might have found alluring decades ago. He hated himself for even thinking about giving her a proper answer. They’d been friends once; before any romantic attachment had formed. It was how she had known to save him, once upon a time. He missed that connection with someone. The comfort and ease with which they had confided in each other and learned of what made the other tick. He even missed the heartache that had come with knowing she would never love him. It was certainly preferable to the current heartache of knowing the man Magnus wanted wouldn’t even _let_ himself want Magnus.

“Ragnor’s dead.” He said instead, conjuring the official paper needed to begin drafting her payment.

Even without looking, he could sense her disbelief. She sped to his bar and helped herself to some plasma he kept around for when Raphael visited.

He rubbed his hands together, clearing his mind to ensure that the right words would be written.

“Your little cabbage.”

“Your _true love_.”

And because Camille didn’t do well with emotions, she changed the topic as she set aside the three shots she’d already managed to down and walked towards him. “You’re still upset by my dalliance with that short-lived Russian?”

“I gave up feeling anything for you over a century ago.” He was very much not in the mood to rehash their forsaken love story.

“Love is fleeting. Even more so when you’re immortal.” And yet Camille had loved Ragnor beyond comprehension, and Magnus had loved her in spite of it.

“And yet true love cannot die.” Magnus wondered if Camille would understand the message behind his words. Did she still remember their time together? He, Ragnor, Camille, and her fledgling Jane.

“But people can.” Jane had died at the hands of the Clave, after having created illegal dens that even Camille hadn’t known about, and had been one of the reasons Magnus had joined Ragnor and Camille in New York.

“People are more than just toys for your amusement.” Camille had been heartless, but she’d never been less than upfront with her intentions. He’d known from the very beginning that her heart would always belong to Ragnor, and that she’d agreed to a relationship with Magnus because she had liked him well enough and had been at least sexually attracted to him. Her other lovers (before, during, and after their relationship) had been more entertainment than actual attraction.

“Hundreds of years old and still so naive.” Camille tsk-ed, and Magnus inclined his head to her. “You wouldn’t know what to do with love if you found it.”

_Hold on and never let go._ Just as Other Magnus seemed to have done, proposing to Other Alec and protecting him from even an entirely different dimension. He never thought he’d ever be jealous of himself. Or at least a version of himself. Other Magnus Bane must have been a saint to have gotten to experience the type of love he could see Other Alec had for his fiancé.

Camille stepped up behind him like a predator. “Or do you think you already have?”

_Far from it actually_ , Magnus couldn’t help but think. If only he had Other Magnus’ luck with love, then perhaps things would have been different. As it were, the one person he’d felt the beginnings of an attachment for was due to be married by the end of the week. Not even Alec’s cryptic words from the night before would change that.

She sniffed the air. “Angel blood.”

Just as he finished the contract, Magnus found himself being spun around and kissed. It ended as soon as it began, with him grabbing Camille by the elbows and pushing her away. Really, the audacity of the woman!

And because whichever higher power decided to handle his day was fucking with him, it seemed that Alexander and Isabelle had seen the whole charade. What he wouldn’t do for a drink or three. Or to be anywhere but in the middle of this weird stare down that was causing confusing feelings within him—

_why the fuck should it matter who he was kissing, anyways?_

It wasn’t as if there was anyone to be explaining to.

He made a comment on the awkwardness of the situation, which Alexander readily ignored in favor of asking for the book.

Magnus shrugged noncommittally, “It’s complicated.”

Alexander looked at Camille briefly, face unreadable (but then again, Magnus was looking everywhere but at the man, so really, maybe his face was entirely readable). “Clearly.”

“I have it.” Camille’s delighted tone made Magnus want to slap his forehead. Nothing good came from that tone. Ever.

“And she’s graciously offered it in exchange for her freedom.” He tacked on, hoping his former lover would keep her mouth shut.

Isabelle arched a brow, “And her freedom requires a lip-lock?”

“Apparently, she wanted to prove a point.” Magnus found himself saying, much to his own mortification.

“We don’t negotiate with prisoners.” Alexander took a step towards Camille, and though Magnus knew he shouldn’t (wouldn’t) interfere, the thought of erecting a barrier between them did cross his mind. Alec’s scent must have lingered in his loft, and it was similar enough to Alexander’s that Camille had assumed he was somehow connected to the nephilim. Well, he was, but—

_"Even if I feel something for you, would I give up my life for you?"_

Never one to cower, Camille scoffed. “Prisoner? I beg to disagree. You see, I’m your only chance at saving the world. You need me.”

He made a face at Isabelle, swirling his finger by his temple. As smart as Camille was to have caught on that he had been interested in someone, she hadn’t been preceptive (or updated) enough to pick up on the fact that Magnus was not, in fact, in a relationship with anyone.

Having had the chance to study the Lightwood siblings, Camille addressed Magnus once again. “You certainly have a type, don’t you, Magnus? He’s cute. Too bad it won’t last.”

Isabelle looked ready to stake her. “Say that again…you won’t last.”

“I’d say he’s about twenty years from male pattern baldness.”

Seemingly already fed up with the exchange, Alexander replied, “I don’t have time for this. Where’s Clary?”

Magnus motioned to the other room, shooting Camille a look as the oldest shadowhunter in the room left. “Funny you’d compare yourself to the brother instead of the lovely lady before us.”

Camille rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be silly, Magnus. I know you.”

Now, if only that weren’t true.

* * *

Camille’s apartment was as he remembered it, though with more occupants than he had ever been comfortable living with. It had been so long since he had lived under the same roof as anyone for longer than a day or two. Even having Alec over was a constant surprise for him, especially with the way his wards easily accepted the man because of Mags’ protection spells.

He barely paid any attention to the others, though when Alexander mentioned checking the perimeter, Magnus latched on to the chance to get away from the group as a whole. Maybe he could find more of Ragnor’s stuff in the apartment. Knowing Camille, she would have stashed random trinkets all over the world, and while New York had been primarily _their_ city, Ragnor had been by often enough that Magnus wouldn’t be surprised if he had left her something significant.

The old warlock has always been smart about safekeeping important things.

A slow inhale and exhale accompanied the waves of magic he sent out to feel for any ward or trap (directed at them or otherwise). The wards of Camille’s home was the same as it had always been, though it should have been touched up at least thirty years ago to ensure its strength. As it were, she wouldn’t let just anyone ward her homes, asking only Magnus or Ragnor, unless there was nothing of particular value in the residence. It was how he knew that there was probably something worth looking into here. Then again, it could easily just be the Book of the White.

This particular apartment of hers had been warded by Ragnor; had been one of their hideaways when they’d wanted to retreat from the world and fall into the world of books. Escapades Magnus hadn’t been invited to, nor had wanted to join. He supposed they had made an odd trio at the time; because while Magnus had loved Camille, she had loved Ragnor. And Ragnor? Magnus’ Little Cabbage was aromantic and asexual. He’d been unable to give Camille what she’d wanted, and for a while, she’d been satisfied with taking all of it from Magnus—

until she wasn’t.

“So, you and Camille have history?” Alexander’s voice permeated through the curtain of _remembering_ that had momentarily clouded his mind.

“Ancient history,” amended Magnus with a shake of his head to clear his head. “Almost literally.”

“You aren’t still…?”

Magnus looked away from the spines of the books he had been perusing, surprised to find that Alexander had settled against the bookshelf, just a few feet off to his side. Hazel eyes had never been more piercing until that moment, and Magnus had to remind himself to breathe evenly.

How effortlessly handsome Alexander looked. How devastatingly close and yet unbearably far from reach.

He debated explaining his relationship with Camille. How they’d been friends, then lovers, then nothing, then (professional?) acquaintances. After all, she’d been the Clan Leader while he was High Warlock. The Clave didn’t exactly understand how the Downworld worked though, so Magnus resigned to keep it to himself. Besides, he really didn’t owe Alexander an explanation.

Realizing he’d taken a while to respond, Magnus was glad he was at least pretending to look through the tomes.

“As large as the world is,” here he debated saying Alexander’s name, then opted not to. “We sometimes find ourselves facing people we’d rather leave behind.” If he were petty, he’d add: _like us having to deal with each other in spite of your refusal to take a risk and to the detriment of my own pride._

The book, red as blood and inconspicuous enough to blend in, drew Magnus’ attention from the bitterness that lingered from Alexander’s rejection (and subsequent contradicting acts — Magnus wasn’t blind to the way he was closely being watched whenever he and the young shadowhunter were in the same room). His finger had barely grazed the spine of the book before it disappeared and his magic detected a disturbance in the area.

Footsteps told them they weren’t alone, and the pair were quick to get into defensive positions. Two Circle members appeared, and armed as they were, they were no match for Alexander’s skill and Magnus’ power (and ill-temper, really) combined. They made quick work of the pair, Magnus eventually trapping them in separate cages after knocking them out.

When they looked for their companions, it was to find them dealing with Valentine and more Circle members. A very small part of Magnus was grateful for the chance to work his aggression out.

One moment the three young people were trapped (when did Jace get there?), blades to their necks, and the next they were back at the entryway of Camille’s apartment, lightheaded and exhausted. At least, Clary, and Isabelle were. Simon and Jace went about making sure they were alright. Alexander contacted the Institute about the five Circle members they’d managed to capture. Valentine had just managed to slip away at the cost of the life of one of his own men.

Magnus held the Book of the White in one hand while the other was planted on the wall by Camille’s head. For all they had just accomplished, Camille looked like she’d barely broken a sweat, and the only sign Magnus had used so much magic was the condensation that had formed at his hairline.

“Thank you.”

The words settled between them, exchanged at the same time, with a difference in gravity only they could truly comprehend. With history as colorful as theirs, no one else could really understand the bond between them. He was unresponsive when Camille sped away, opting to simply shift his stance and snap his fingers to open a portal to his loft. His first thought had been to drop everyone off at the Institute, but with the sun still up and out, and Raphael’s wayward fledgling among the ducklings Magnus had found himself somewhat responsible for, he’d at least let the baby vampire pass the day in his place.

“We need to take them in.” Alexander gestured to the passed out Circle members, and with another snap of his fingers, Magnus created another portal to the Institute.

“Jace and I can handle it,” Isabelle said, walking over with Jace and getting ready to wrangle up the bodies.

A pointer finger up had them pausing, and Magnus swiped his arm so that the prisoners moved through the portal just a split second before they did. When Alexander didn’t immediately follow, Magnus closed the portal.

“I-I can’t just leave my van,” Simon looked from Magnus to Clary and to the portal that led to Magnus’ loft.

“Do whatever you wish, Sheldon. You’re free to stay in my loft until sundown, if you wish.” Magnus shrugged, heading for the portal. The small bottle of dirt Camille had shoved in his coat pocket felt heavier than the weight that settled in his chest at having faced and lost Valentine.

Just as he landed on the soft Persian rug on the floor of his living room, a fire-message arrived for him. It distracted him from realizing that someone had followed him to the loft, recognizing the familiar scrawl on the paper. A flick of his wrist had the message banished and placed on his desk. He would deal with the Spiral Council later.

Needing a breath of fresh air, he turned to spend some time at the balcony only to come face-to-face with Alexander. The crease between his brows returned.

“That was…you did a lot.” Alexander really should watch where his eyes went, because Magnus was getting distracted by the fact that the nephilim kept looking down to his lips and—

All Magnus wanted in that moment was a drink. He really shouldn’t have gotten involved with shadowhunter business. Wards and consultation only; that has been his policy since the Uprising. Curse his own curiosity and guilt for sticking around. If anything, he blamed Tessa for his soft spot for the Angel-blooded.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He wasn’t, but that didn’t really matter, so he nodded and stepped around the tall man. It was sweet of Alexander to think of his health, but then he supposed that was what made the man a good leader and a good brother. He cared about his team’s wellbeing— _his family’s_.

The balcony doors opened as the curtains disappeared, letting the sunlight he’d blocked when Camille had arrived permeate through the windows and doors. Standing as they were, shoulder-to-shoulder, Magnus faced the balcony and Alexander faced the interiors. It felt symbolic, somehow. But he refused to delve any deeper into that.

“Thank you for escorting me,” Magnus stopped himself from saying Alexander’s name just in time, saying instead, “A portal to the Institute for you, then?”

“No, I…” He turned so that his entire body faced Magnus, who wanted both to lean in and move away at the same time. Magnus and Alec had easily set boundaries where touch and proximity had been concerned; they were both tactile and affectionate people, but there was an undercurrent of _wrongness_ whenever they so much as breathed too close to the other. But Alexander…

_“Even if I feel something for you, would I give up my life for you? I have to do what’s right for_ me _.”_

Alexander had made it clear he hadn’t wanted anything to do with Magnus, _and yet…_

What was he doing there?

“Are you sure you don’t need to borrow my strength?”

Unable to help himself, Magnus’ reply was quick and dry, “That sounds like an excuse to hold my hand and have your arms around me.” He let out a huff of air that could pass as a chuckle, and shook his head as he stepped out on to the afternoon sun.

Ah, the glorious heat felt wonderful against his face, though the cold sweat he’d worked up had yet to dissipate. “Maybe it is.”

Magnus visibly started. _What?_ But he’d known dances like this before; had been on both sides often enough to learn when to push and pull. Only then, in that moment with Alexander, exhaustion won out.

_“I don’t deserve that either.”_

“Thank you for the concern, Alec.” The use of the nickname left a bitter taste in his mouth. A flick of his wrist and a portal appeared behind him; right in front of Alexander. “A portal to the Institute,” and because he was an idiot, he added, “ _Pro bono_.”

Spelled to disappear when a person went through, Magnus was not relieved at all when it closed. With a sigh, he portalled to Hotel Dumort, needing to speak with his son. There was so much that needed to be done, it was draining him just thinking about them on top of already being exhausted from all that had transpired in the past couple of hours.

“Did you know?” Raphael immediately asked when he appeared, and for a moment, Magnus had no idea what he was talking about.

Letting himself fall on his ass on Raphael’s bed, he rested his elbows on his knees, watching Raphael pace and glare at the floor.

“Those nephilim and that fledgling took Camille and—”

“They needed her to find the Book of the White,” Magnus knew it would have probably been better to let Raphael air it all out, but he couldn’t be bothered. His body felt heavy and he would have placed his loft in lockdown if he weren’t housing a guest.

With a grunt, he let him fall flat on his back. His son moved towards him without a second thought.

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but she did lead them to it in exchange for a Writ of Transmutation. I drafted the damned thing, joined them in looking for the book, and then we were ambushed by Valentine.” He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he was opening them.

“You survived.” Raphael sat by his head, the bed dipping and causing him to turn to the vampire. Even through half-lidded eyes, Magnus could read the concern on Raphael’s face.

“Camille helped take care of the Circle members.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “She just found out Ragnor’s dead.” Another deep breath, and he felt his magic begin to settle and regenerate. Steak and vodka were great, but it also helped to be in the proximity of his family. “I think she knows of the ritual.”

“No.”

“If we can get her to help, you can get her again.” Magnus murmured, smiling when Raphael moved him so that his head was pillowed on the vampire’s lap.

“If you ever see her, you would be inviting her bullshit into your life again. Neither you nor Ragnor deserve that.” A cool palm grazed Magnus’ forehead.

“She loves him.” Even without looking, Magnus knew Raphael disagreed.

“So do we,” Raphael’s fingers carded through Magnus’ hair. “And not selfishly. Get some sleep, _Papá_. We will talk more when you’ve rested.”

“The Spiral Labyrinth sent me a message earlier.”

The vampire said nothing, continuing the calming motion to soothe his dad.

“There’s been an incident they want me to personally look into.”

“And you plan on actually showing up?”

Magnus hummed. “I think some distance from New York would do me some good.”

And though Raphael said nothing, they could both hear what the vampire had left unsaid. _New York or a Shadowhunter?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more plot outside of Other Alec's arrival~
> 
> The Ragnor/Camille bit was something I had no plans to include at all. It really just wrote itself.
> 
> I'm also a sucker for Raphael accepting that he's Magnus' son lmao


	5. Day Two: The Alecs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tag added for this chapter: Bad Parent (Canon-typical homophobia and racism) Maryse Lightwood
> 
> Heed the tags of the fic for the rest of the warnings!

**ALEXANDER**

They’d known.

_Of course, they’d known._

He let out a long slow exhale before resuming his punches. The punching bag before him barely even registered amidst all the noise in his mind. His closed fists hit the bag in a steady rhythm, allowing his mind to wander and his thoughts to sort themselves.

Years of being torn up about—

_so many things—_

And one inter-dimensional traveler just blew everything out of the water.

Then again, that wasn’t entirely true, was it?

His crush on Jace had already been revealed (and he was well on his way to getting over the fact that he’d liked his _parabatai_ for the comfort of liking someone that he could have never had in the first place). His eyes had already been opened to the truth of his parents’ characters. His mind had already caught up to the right path he had to choose to save himself ( _his family’s name_ ). His heart—

A huff.

The sweat he’d worked up caused his shirt to cling to his frame, and he would have taken it off if he hadn’t gotten distracted by the sound of Izzy’s laughter. She passed by the open training room doors, Other Alec by her side and Jace and Clary trailing after them.

He’d spent the better part since the mundane had left the Institute keeping himself busy. Between paperwork, other administrative matters, and even some menial labor, he hadn’t had much success in not thinking about just what it meant that he was essentially outed to his sister and the man he’d steadfastly been trying not to notice.

Unbidden, his mind conjured the image of Other Alec’s arrival. The pastel suit, the styled hair, and the bravado. He was the very anti-thesis of Alec.

The easy smile, the confident smirk, the cool indifference; those, at least, he was familiar with. Rare as they were, he did express his emotions Shen in the company of his sister and his _parabatai_.

But then, there was—

A change in posture, straightening his suit, delight at the sight of Magnus Bane—

There was no part of him that liked the thought of someone with his face walking around out there in the world, but he liked even less the idea of them staying at the Institute. As it were, he knew he and Lydia ought to be grateful that Magnus stepped in to help. More than that, he was grateful that he wouldn’t be seen as a party to their contract. He’d be an innocent third party, so the Clave couldn’t go after him or his family for anything concerning Other Alec.

His knuckles stung from the hits, and he knew if he looked down they would probably be close to bleeding, if they weren’t already. Without much thought, he left the training room, knowing he had the rest of the day to both avoid and monitor his other self before he had to be his guardian tomorrow.

* * *

The knowledge that he would have to take up the mantle of bodyguard for his dimensional counterpart weighed heavily in his mind. Clary and Isabelle were still out, and Jace was… _out, somewhere._ Really, Alec was beginning to stop blaming Clary for Jace’s bad decisions, but he would never tell them that. It was easier to blame the redhead for all the recklessness Jace had easily been allowed to indulge in because he had been constantly protected by the Lightwoods.

As a portal opened before him, he felt a rush of air leave his lungs. Other Alec stepped out first, using a portal with an ease Alec would not have thought to see on a mundane, followed by Magnus. They seemed to have been in the middle of a conversation, and under the guise of keeping track of Other Alec, Alec studied them unabashedly.

He drank in the sight of Magnus’ lined eyes and streaked hair. Every expression of Magnus’, even if it were directed at Other Alec, was saved and filed away in his mind without even trying. An archer needed to have sharp eyes as a long-range fighter, and as someone who had to push himself to remain on par with his _parabatai_ , his short-range skills did not fall. The rings on Magnus’ fingers caught his eyes, glinting as they were in the sunlight.

And when Magnus had turned to address him, he didn’t even get the chance to reply because Other Alec was quick with a retort of his own.

Their easy banter had him gritting his teeth. Why did Other Alec have to talk so much? It wasn’t like they weren’t going to see each other again. He already had his own time to have Magnus to himself.

_He even had his own Magnus already—_

By the time Magnus had left, Other Alec’s mood had done a complete one-eighty as he regarded Alec coolly. It made his hackles rise. Had it really been a good idea to have the person before him staying with Magnus? Granted, the High Warlock of Brooklyn could very well protect himself. But how sure were they that this Alec wouldn’t somehow botch Magnus’ relationship with (himself) the Institute.

“You should stop looking at him like that,” Other Alec’s gaze unnerved him in a way he had never experienced. It was like looking in a mirror filled with all the self-loathing he’d been desperate to hide and yet wielded as a weapon against his own happiness.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ _Please_ , I’m _you_. If there’s anyone who knows exactly what they’re talking about when it comes to you, it’s probably me.” Other Alec undid the buttons of his sleeves, rolling it up to the middle of his forearm, continuing, “An engaged man shouldn’t be looking at anyone the way you were looking at him other than his fiancée.”

“I was making sure you were both in one piece.”

“And yet you only looked at me when he’d left.” With a shake of his head, Other Alec turned to the Institute. “I’m helping keep your secret here. The least you can do is help yourself out.”

The urge to snap back at Other Alec tugged heavily at him. How dare this mundane come barging in and just dictate his life? The move reminded him so much of Clary and her bull-headed stubbornness and audacity. Of Jace’s new unpredictability because of her. Of Izzy’s attachment to downworlders and her steadfast protection of Meliorn.

“Sorry.” Other Alec’s countenance softened as he sighed. “I really don’t mean to cause trouble or make things any worse for you than it already is, and…” A tight-lipped smile Alec recognized he often gave when he was unsure about the situation graced Other Alec’s lips. “I’m sorry for when I first got here…for…” _Outing you._

Both of them looked around, checking to see if anyone caught their interaction or overheard Other Alec’s apology. It was in that small almost inconspicuous move that Alec saw for the first time just what similarities they could possibly have.

“Coming out is an intimate and personal decision that you should have control over.” Other Alec rushed to say under his breath before Alec could even begin to properly process what he was saying. “I don’t fully understand everything that you have on your shoulders, but I’ve seen enough to know that I should do better about watching what I say and how I act. I would have apologized to you yesterday, but I think you were doing a great job of avoiding me.”

_Emotions cloud judgment._

And wasn’t it ironic that his counterpart was the very epitome of emotions clouding judgment?

“Just watch it next time.” Alec replied, turning around so as not to give Other Alec any more opportunity to continue the conversation.

With a fortifying breath, he led his charge into the Institute.

Alec was loathe to admit it barely two hours later, but he didn’t completely hate having Other Alec glued to his side. They didn’t talk much of the other dimension or their supposed similarities as people, so Other Alec steered the conversation by asking all about Shadowhunter history and the various rooms and gadgets they came across. Even some politics had been discussed, with Other Alec wondering if the Downworlders had something similar to the Clave. When Alec had said that the closest they had were the warlocks’ Spiral Council, Other Alec had looked at him with an expression he was intimately familiar with.

It read that he knew more than he was willing to say; knew more than the person he was speaking with.

That particular conversation had been cut short by Isabelle’s fire-message asking him to meet at Magnus’ loft.

_Need backup. Come to Magnus’._

Knowing he had no other choice, he led Other Alec to the Head’s Office, where Lydia was going through some paperwork.

“Alec?” She followed the pair with her eyes as they entered.

“Iz called for backup. No one else can—”

“It’s fine, Alec,” replied Lydia with a shake of her head. “Go. I can keep an eye on…Alec.”

“Oh I have soooo _many_ questions, _Liddy-baby_.” Other Alec beamed, settling himself comfortably on one of the seats in her office.

Reminding himself that it wouldn’t be proper to punch his lookalike, Alec thanked Lydia with a promise to be back as soon as possible then ran for the High Warlock of Brooklyn’s residence.

“We managed to get Camille, but she brought us here to have a Writ of Transmutation drafted by Magnus before leading us to the Book of the White.” Isabelle explained as soon as he arrived. Alec steeled himself as they entered the premises, trying and failing not to think about all that had happened in the loft over the course of the last two weeks. Had it really been that short of a time?

The kiss that they had walked in on was not something he had expected (nor liked).

Anger clawed deeper into his stomach, and he bristled at nearly every word that left the vampire’s mouth. Her proximity to Magnus reminded him of the last time he and Magnus had been alone in that very loft. He’d felt breathless and lightheaded then; the older man had been talking about the _symptoms_ of emotions. And now, on different sides they stood, with Magnus making faces at his sister to mock Camille. Alec didn’t even bother chiding Izzy’s petulant remarks.

He refused to acknowledge that he’d experienced any of those supposed _symptoms_. It didn’t matter, in the end. By next week, he would be a married man. And he would be _loyal_ to his wife.

_“You’ll be lonely all your life.”_

It was the only way to save his family’s name, and that went beyond himself and his parents. Izzy, Max, and even Jace needed the security of at least a good family reputation.

_“And so will she.”_

Lydia had accepted his proposal. It was a solid partnership.

Camille Belcourt had no idea what she was talking about. There was nothing between him and Magnus aside from the brief lapse of sanity he’d had in indulging his own confusing curiosity. Staying the night after helping Luke. Drinking. Flirting over breakfast. Nearly agreeing to the first mode of payment for Magnus to be Izzy’s representative.

She knew nothing of Alec and Magnus.

Because there was no _Alec and Magnus_.

Not in this dimension.

“We should check the perimeter.” He said as they arrived at Camille’s apartment, only to be surprised when Magnus agreed with him. Though instead of going their separate ways, he found himself following the warlock to a different room also filled with books but that also housed what looked to be antiques.

Then again, practically everything around him could probably count as an antique.

“So, you and Camille have history?” He didn’t know what gave him the guts to ask, but he wouldn’t have faulted Magnus if he chose not to reply. His hands behind him, Alec watched Magnus’ every move and positioned himself by the bookcase the warlock was perusing to get a better angle of his face the room. ****

“Ancient history; almost literally.” ****

Surprise and relief filled his body, though it seemed he wasn’t cogent enough not to stop himself from asking, “You aren’t still…?”

When the warlock regarded him, Alec returned his gaze head on. The tightness in his chest felt more pronounced in that moment as he looked into deep brown eyes. If he’d had less impulse control, he would have clawed at his chest. It felt far too difficult to breathe. Nothing was easing the feeling—not focusing on the various necklaces on Magnus’ chest, not looking at theway his eyes seemed to lose focus, not _anything._ The stuffy room did nothing for what Alec felt was already a stifling situation.

There were a few seconds of silence. Alec figured he’d pushed his luck and Magnus wouldn’t answer anymore. He wasn’t owed any explanation, after all. And so he was surprised when Magnus actually spoke. ****

“As large as the world is, we sometimes find ourselves facing people we’d rather leave behind.”

Alec wondered if he fell into that category now as well. He also wondered if Magnus would ever fall into that territory for him. Alec wasn’t sure he wanted to find out, but he really doubted it. For all the confusion Magnus has caused him, that brief glimpse of a _possibility_ between them was something he would always be grateful for.

He took in every detail of the warlock as he stood a few feet from him. His hair was perfectly coiffed, lacking any of the usual highlights he seemed to favor. A red scarf hung around his neck, along with a couple of necklaces that drew Alec’s attention to the prominent Adam’s apple that moved with the warlock’s every word. The deep mauve shirt he wore clung to his arms, and as Magnus shifted to reach for a book, Alec followed the flex of his bicep to the rings on his fingers.

 _You’re beautiful_. Alec’s head pounded to the beat of his heart. Handsome would have been the better word, he supposed, but the grace and fluidity with which Magnus moved made Alec consider him beautiful. _You’re beautiful and I want you._

Oh how it hurt that even in the privacy of his mind, the admission filled him with guilt and shame.

_“You have nothing to be ashamed of.”_

Everything that followed was a blur. Between working with Magnus to take down the two Circle members that had attacked them, saving Fray, the Fledgling, and his sister, Valentine’s and Jace’s arrival, and Camille’s apparent return, Alec felt his training kick into place.

He assessed the situation: taking stock of the Circle members they’d managed to round up; the status of his _parabatai_ and sister; Magnus covering Camille from view. Just as he’d mentioned transporting the prisoners, Izzy volunteered herself and Jace for the job, only to have Camille speed away and Magnus help with sending the prisoners to the Institute with a portal.

Magnus barely spared him a glance as he closed the portal when Alec didn’t follow the two other shadowhunters to the Institute.

“Get back to the Institute when you’ve taken care of him.” Alec ordered Clary, before following Magnus through the other portal he’d created.

Immediately, Magnus was greeted by a fire message. Alec didn’t get a chance to read it over the other man’s shoulder before Magnus had banished it. The portal closed behind him just as Magnus turned around, and Alec worried at the fact that Magnus hadn’t realized he’d been followed.

Alec licked his lower lip absentmindedly. “That was…” He clenched his fist, wanting to reach out to Magnus but knowing that he shouldn’t. “You did a lot.” All things considered, Magnus didn’t look as exhausted as he had when he’d been healing Luke, but still… “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The gust of air that swept through the room as the loft was once again filled with sunlight did nothing to ease how wound up he felt.

Magnus stepped to the side, and the phrase ‘ _so close, yet so far’_ suddenly attributed to Magnus after years of pertaining to Jace. ****

“Thank you for escorting me.A portal to the Institute for you, then?”

“No, I…” Alec turned so that his entire body faced Magnus, and he found himself remembering the ease with which Magnus had interacted with Other Alec. And yet, here Magnus and Alec were, weighed down by seemingly different things for different reasons.

Magnus arched a brow. ****

“Are you sure you don’t need to borrow my strength?” Alec nearly held a hand out, but decided against it. Magnus hadn’t asked, and he wouldn’t insist. ****

 **“** That sounds like an excuse to hold my hand and have your arms around me.” A small chuckle left Magnus’ lips. ****

“Maybe it is.” Alec felt his cheeks warm as he questioned where he got the nerve to be so bold. His heartbeat rang in his ears. All he could think about was how close Magnus was, and how close Camille had been to him earlier, and how close Other Alec had been—

How much closer Other Alec would be later. ****

“Thank you for the concern, Alec.”

He’d never disliked his nickname more.

“A portal to the Institute, _pro bono_.”

Alec flinched, but left.

* * *

**ALEC**

When Local Alec left him with Lydia, he was stuck between relief and worry. As much as he was willing to keep up the whole charade of being straight, he’d also been relying on having those _in the know_ to keep him in check. And while Lydia was technically a part of that group, she was still decidedly not a part of the inner circle, if his recent days have told him anything.

So he looked at Lydia, who looked back at him with a stare he’d seen sent his way throughout the years they’d been friends.

 _“Liddy-baby?”_ She repeated, much to his delight.

“Other you _hated_ it.” He said with a grin.

Lydia was amused, “Which is why you don’t call me anything else.”

Alec’s grin was wide and bright. “Of course!”

“Of course,” Lydia couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. She read through a few documents, but seemed as uncomfortable with the silence as Alec was dissatisfied with only reading the book he’d nicked from the library. “So you and I are close in your world?”

And so Alec spent the next hour regaling Lydia with his history with his own Lydia. It surprised him to know that here, Lydia and Alec had been no more than mere colleagues until the engagement, and though he tried not to be too judgy, the thought of marrying a woman — even one as great as Lydia — made his skin crawl. How could he want anyone else but Mags? How could this Alec—

That was a train of thought he was better off letting go, because as much as he might harp on this particular situation, he could see just how likely this could have been a variation of his future if he hadn’t found the courage to explore his own sexuality. Or hadn’t known of his parents’ dirty laundry earlier in his life. More thoughts to not pursue!

By noon, their comfortable atmosphere gave Alec the courage to do a bit of his own prying.

“So…um…does the name John Montverde ring a bell?”

The way Lydia started and then froze was enough of an answer for Alec, really, but he couldn’t help himself from saying more.

“Because my Lydia hasn’t been a Branwell since we’d started our company together. She’s been Lydia Montverde for about five years now. And a mom to my god daughter and her twin sister for a year.”

 _Crying_. Alec never did well with people crying—least of all people he cared about. And this may not have been his Lydia, but she was close enough. With less finesse than he would have cared to admit, he rushed to her side and took her in his arms.

A different Branwell-Montverde love story reached his ears: an engagement born out of love was much the same in both dimensions, but where the one in his had ended in _happily ever after_ , this had ended in tragedy. John had died in battle on a mission gone awry, a risk all shadowhunters knew of and took whenever they were sent out. It was simply their way of life, but it didn’t make the death hurt any less. They had been two weeks short of their wedding, and now, over a year later, Lydia was engaged to be married to a version of Alec he had never even dreamed existed.

“Nephilim love once,” Alec found himself repeating the adage Tessa had shared with him over whiskey when he’d first shared his plans of proposing to Mags.

“Fiercely,” finished Lydia, looking up at the man who looked everything like her current fiancé and not at all. Her tears had dried quickly earlier on, training kicking in faster than was probably healthy. His arms were wrapped securely around her, legs bracketing her hips, with him having sat on the desk and folded around her.

“You once told me that everyone deserves love in their life.” He murmured, thinking of his own Lydia. “I agreed, of course, but never really thought much of it as anything other than the musing of a lovesick Lydia who thinks John hung the sun and moon for her.”

A small huff of laughter escaped her lips.

“But seeing you now,” he wiped at her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, a futile attempt to fix her appearance considering her dried tears. “I think I have a better understanding of what you meant. It isn’t that everyone should have the kind of love you and John have.”

“Everyone deserves to experience what it means to love and be loved like it at least once, heart and soul.”

Alec hummed in agreement, recalling an old conversation with a crying little sister who’d thought herself unloveable for being smarter than her peers and uninterested in most things girls her age had been. He’d sworn to her then that she would someday find someone who’d love her— _heart and soul_ — and lo and behold, she’d met Simon years later, and though they hadn’t dated until years after being friends…

“And what is _this_?”

Oh, Maryse Lightwood always did have impeccable timing.

“Alec.”

The man marveled at how alike the Maryses of both dimensions sounded. Of course, he hadn’t heard his mother sound that way in years, but he’s also spent a good chunk of his formative years with that chastising-and-disappointed tone combination.

“I know you two are getting married but—”

Lydia tried to intervene, “Maryse—“

“You aren’t my son.”

The undignified snort that left him was as involuntary as it could be. “Yeah, no kidding. No dark broody tattooed Alexander Lightwood here.”

Maryse turned to Lydia, eyes blazing, “You said this was under control?”

“As the current Acting Head of the Institute, I decide what that means,” was Lydia’s quick response. “Seeing as he’s here, within my office, while his usual rotation of guards are out looking for a way to revive Jocelyn Fairchild, instead of out and about, I fail to see your concern.”

Had Alec been anyone else, they would have flinched; either from Maryse’s anger or Lydia’s irritation. As it were, he was more than used to both, and the addition of tattoos— _runes_ —on them didn’t make them any worse in his mind.

Alec adopted a more neutral stance, keeping his hands in his pocket and standing off to the side as Lydia went on to explain the situation. He wanted nothing to do with any Maryse Lightwood, but he also had no permission to leave the office and wander.

He didn’t bat an eye when Maryse set her eyes upon him once again.

“What have we learned from his world, then?”

“Magnus has yet to hand in his report. We agreed it would be due two days after Alec’s return to his own dimension.” Lydia lied smoothly. Alec knew Magnus and she hadn’t hashed out the details yet. The warlock had said as much, and while Alec had shared more of his world with him, it was far from being useful.

There was still quite a bit Alec hadn’t disclosed.

“And we’re supposed to take Magnus Bane’s words at face value?”

“Considering he’s been nothing but helpful in spite of all reason not to be?” Alec couldn’t help but interfere, ever protective of his—of any iteration of Magnus.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Maryse’s eyes narrowed even further. “You know nothing of our world—”

“Wanna bet?” He noted Lydia tense up but not interfere. “You’ve done something you’re not proud of, but not because it was wrong; because you lost. You’ve spent your life trying to make up for it—probably doing your best to clear your name and maintain a spotless reputation. You’ve brainwashed your oldest son into breaking himself to fit the mold you’ve created, but just like the Maryse I know, you’ll realize that something _will have to give_.”

The slap Maryse delivered wasn’t surprising as much as it was annoying.

“Maryse,” Lydia’s warning tone alone wouldn’t be able to stop the rush of emotions between the pair.

To Alec, this was a long time coming.

“As far as I’m concerned, my mother died the moment she decided her religion and the family’s reputation was worth more than my life. My parents sent me to military school to be _fixed_ , as if something as fundamental as who I loved was some fad to be beaten out of me—but that wasn’t enough, of course. Maryse had wanted me sent to a _specialist_ , those trained to _heal_ me and make me see the _error of my ways_.”

He saw the tremble of her lip, and knew that if he looked down, her hands would probably be doing the same. The Maryse of his world was much less composed than the one before him, but then again the woman who’d given birth to him had also not deigned him worth any form of communication since he’d come out.

It was only Mags’ arrival in his life that had helped him work towards mending bridges he’d previously thought he’d thoroughly burned. But even then, he was far from at peace with what had transpired; not when the Maryse of his world had been less than kind to Mags when they’d first met. He was all for indulging the possibility of there being civility between them, but he would not tolerate her talking down to Mags.

“If you think,” he began, voice low and steady, “That there is anything you can say or do that would be worse than my waking up after attempting to take my own life and being told that my mother has refused to welcome me home unless I was _cured_ , has prohibited my siblings from visiting me, and has made sure I was disinherited for being the way I was, then I wish you the best of fucking luck.”

The door swung open then,

“Lydia, we were ambushed—”

Isabelle’s eyes darted from each occupant of the room, gaze landing on Lydia’s blotchy face, Maryse’s tense shoulders, and staying on the bruise beginning to bloom on Alec’s face.

“We were ambushed by Valentine and his people, but Magnus took them down and we were able to secure the Book of the White. Jace and Raj are escorting the Circle Members we managed to round up to the cells.”

“Good work,” Lydia kept her eyes trained on Isabelle. “We’ll debrief properly before dinner. Please make sure everything is logged and secured. Have your mother do a round in the cells with you to confirm the identity and authenticity of the members.” She turned to the former Head, “Maryse, you’re dismissed.”

When her mother followed without a word, Isabelle knew something big must have happened. Since when did Maryse Lightwood let herself be bossed around?

“Alec will be back soon. He had to tie up loose ends at the location,” Isabelle added thoughtfully, watching as her brother’s doppelgänger seemed to relax the further Maryse was from him.

When the Lightwood women had left, Lydia refocused on Alec.

“Alec…”

“Don’t.” A long slow exhale got rid of most of the agitation, and Alec called on every calming method he’d learned throughout his life to keep him from flying off the handle. “I’m sorry about that.”

She shook her head, opening her arms in a silent offer for a hug. Alec stepped into her arms willingly, pressing his cheek to the top of her head and bracketing her in his arms.

As comforting as it was though, Alec knew he wouldn’t feel at ease until he was back in his world.

They stood like that for a fair bit, pulling slowly apart only when the door opened once again.

“No one knocks in this dimension,” muttered Alec, prompting Lydia to snort a laugh.

Local Alec barged into the room then. If he were a little less angry, maybe he would’ve cared more about throwing the door open. As it were, the sight of his mundane counterpart only served to annoy him even further. He stood embracing Lydia, and though he didn’t feel any true claim over his fiancée, it was enough to confuse him for a bit. Hearing Other Alec’s voice was enough to get the irritation back on track though.

“So what happened? Izzy said you were ambushed, but you were called before that.” Alec smoothed down his hair, other hand in his pocket.

“That’s really none of your business.”

Where Local Alec would have thought Other Alec would flinch at his hostility, he only nodded. “Okay.”

That certainly threw the local off. Thick brows furrowed. “That’s it? You’re not going to ask again?”

“Yeah.” A shrug. “I meant it when I said I don’t want to cause any trouble. If the stuff you guys did are confidential or whatever, then I get it.” Other Alec’s small smile was unmistakably fond. “Besides, I can always pester Mags for the deets.”

Alec’s reply was immediate. “He’s not—” _yours? Mags?_

Other Alec’s cool demeanor returned, just as it had earlier when Magnus had left him in Alec’s company, but more lethal. The earlier confrontation with Maryse left him wanting blood; to lash out and hurt just as he had been. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but that has nothing to do with me.”

For a second, he debated saying something else, but bit his tongue just in time.

“Sure, here he’s the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Old as fuck. But I still consider him a friend.” He crossed his arms. “And we talk. As friends. About things.” He huffed, trying and failing to not let all the aggression boil and blend together. “I mean, I’m supposed to be telling him about what I know of the Shadow World from my dimension, right? He doesn’t exactly interrogate me for it. Conversation flows easily since I’m willing to talk, and he humors most questions I have in return.”

“He shouldn’t speak of—”

“If this is gonna be a dig at confidentiality, then please, _don’t_. I won’t bother Magnus about whatever today was, but if you imply for one second that he shouldn’t talk about things that directly involve himself, then maybe you should reevaluate your relationships. Just because you refuse to talk about anything that pertains to you, doesn’t mean everyone should be as tightlipped and wound up _as you_.”

“Don’t act like you know—”

“I’ve had enough of you people thinking that just because I’m not some child-soldier-turned-mindless-lackey that I know _less_ …that _I_ am lesser than you. For someone who’s supposedly doing better than his parents and keeping an open mind, you sure do shit on mundanes a lot.” Alec spat. “I know I’m not a shadowhunter, but at least I know how to stand up for my—”

“Alec.”

Both turned to Magnus, who stood at the door, eyes trained only on Other Alec. Neither Alecs had realized Lydia walking around them and letting the warlock in.

“Mag—”

“It’s time to go, Alec.”

Alec was surprised once again when Other Alec didn’t argue. The fight seemed to leave the man like a popped balloon, in a rush, aggression replaced with a different kind of tension Alec immediately recognized in himself. It was so familiar to the way he’d often held himself around—

 _Jace_.

That guarded look where plenty of care and affection and _love_ shown through, but not the entirety of it; _never_ the entirety of it. There was no protest to the demand that they leave; Other Alec easily coming up to Magnus’ side and eventually following him closely to the exit.

Things were different now, of course. Alec was very much not in love with his _parabatai_. And he was very much attracted to the man his clone was following. A man his clone seemed very unwilling to displease, if his hurried steps and proximity to the High Warlock were anything to go by.

Magnus came to a stop by his sister and Clary, who briefly glanced at him and Other Alec before speaking to Magnus.

“Thank you for calling me,” he heard Magnus tell the girls, which answered how he had known to come after having sent Alec away. “I’ll take him off your hands for the rest of the evening and have him back bright and early tomorrow. The Angel willing, there would be no translation needed to go through the Book of the White and the only thing I’d need to do is perform a spell.”

Clary nodded, “Thanks, Magnus.”

“Jace or I will be his guard for tomorrow.” Isabelle assured them, briefly meeting her brother’s gaze and noting the rigid set of Other Alec’s shoulders as he loomed behind Magnus.

A small hum of agreement accompanied Magnus’ reply as he opened the door. “Probably for the best that they be kept apart for a bit.”

“Magnus.” Alec found himself calling out, gaining everyone’s attention. He didn’t want to let them go—hated the thought that where Magnus had so easily dismissed him, Other Alec had been so easily brought into Magnus’ home. The thundering of his heart made him dizzy, and his hands tingled with the memory of Magnus’ hand in his when they’d shared his energy. How he wanted to even just take one step closer to him now.

Other Alec kept his gaze down, but everyone else had turned to face Alec, with Magnus even raising a brow to get him to continue. So many thoughts filtered through Alec’s mind, but no words came.

“Shift isn’t over until eight,” Alec said instead.

“Alright,” Isabelle ushered Magnus out. “I’ll cover the rest of your shift, _hermano_. It’s already past six, anyways. You should go talk to Lydia about the men we brought in.”

Despite wanting to protest, Alec nodded his consent and watched his sister leave with Other Alec and Magnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is definitely a lot going on with Other Alec. In the next chapter, we find out more!
> 
> Heads up that IRL stuff may or may not prevent me from updating regularly for the next four weeks or so, but let's see. Rest assured, this fic will be done before the year's end though!
> 
> 💚


	6. Day Two: The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mention and quick discussion of suicide and conversion therapy. Alec experiences a panic attack/breakdown.
> 
> Nothing graphic happens or is discussed, but proceed with caution!

Isabelle took a seat on one of the couches.

With his free hand, Magnus snapped his fingers to giver her a drink. Non-alcoholic. With everything going on, they all needed a clear head; no matter how much he wished otherwise. She raised it to him in thanks, and settled down to browse through her phone to offer them some semblance of privacy. Given the chance, she wouldn’t even be there. Her need to know was overshadowed by her wish to give Alec the chance to recover and figure out what he wants to do for himself.

Magnus spun towards Alec, who was fiddling with his engagement ring. Even without anything being said, Magnus could tell Alec was barely keeping himself together. Torn between stepping closer and keeping their distance, he pointed at the mundane, head tilted and brow arched. He didn’t think chiding the man would be the right move, but he also thought that perhaps triggering a reaction would help alleviate the tension.

“I thought I asked you to behave.”

Or burst the bubble, so to speak.

“I did!” Alec’s raised voice made Isabelle look up. “I’ve been playing nice _all day_. Alec might even agree, considering we were okay all morning. Lydia and I even bonded a bit, then I couldn’t help myself—I talked about my Lydia, which made this Lydia cry, and then Maryse arrived, and everything came rushing out, and—just—f-fuck— _fuck, Mags_.”

Neither Magnus nor Isabelle made a move, though both watched Alec closely. He’d pressed a hand to his chest, clawing at the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m not even supposed t-to _be here_.” He shifted his weight, as if unsure, and then launched himself right into Magnus’ personal space. His fists gripped Magnus’ vest, and his forehead hovered just by Magnus’ shoulder. Their height difference made it so that Alec was essentially curled around the warlock without actually touching him.

Despite wanting to observe, Isabelle averted her gaze. She racked her brain for the last time she’d seen her own brother react the way this Alec had. When was the last time her brother had let everything out? Granted, she had a feeling that her presence was still preventing Alec from fully unloading unto Magnus, this was still infinitely more than she had ever seen her brother express.

“I’m sorry you’ve been placed in this situation…” Magnus just about managed to stop himself from pulling the mundane into his arms. As it were, their proximity was enough for his magic to attempt to wrap around that of Other Magnus’ as a way of comforting Alec. “I swear to you, I’m working on sending you back as soon as possible.”

Alec’s breath felt hot against Magnus’ throat as he tilted his head. “I know, I know,” Hands clenching, he let the feel of Magnus’ body heat and the texture of Magnus’ vest ground him. His voice was no more than a whisper as he admitted, “You’re the only one I truly trust here.”

Unable to help himself, Magnus looked to Isabelle. She’d given them a bit of privacy in turning her head, but even he couldn’t help his reaction to Alec’s words. They made eye contact, and she nodded to the balcony before leaving. Returning to the Institute wasn’t an option yet. Her brother would have their heads if she left her post. But Other Alec was far from okay, and she was more than willing to give him the space (and person) he needed.

“I’m right here, Alec.”

“I’m sorry,” came Alec’s hoarse reply. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, f-fuck, I never meant for things to escalate, but everything here’s so—you need to get out of here, Mags. Everyone here’s a piece of work and you’re better off—fuck, I wish I could take you with me when I go.”

She hadn’t meant to, but it was near impossible not to overhear Magnus and Alec’s conversation. The desperation in the latter’s voice made her heart ache. There was a soft murmur that must have been Magnus’ reply that she couldn’t quite make out.

_“Thank you for caring so deeply, darling.”_

“You deserve it,” she heard Alec hiccup, and then more vehemently, “ _Heart and soul_ , Magnus Bane. You will find someone worth ever part of you, and who’ll return just as much and more.”

Isabelle’s head spun. Hadn’t she said something along the same lines to her own brother moments before his parabatai ceremony? And here this Alec was, sharing the same wisdom as an engaged-to-be-married man. An engaged-to-be-married-to-another-man man. To Magnus Bane. To the man he was pretty sure her own brother was at the very least interested in.

Magnus’ voice was rough despite his attempt at humor. “Is this the part where you ask me to run away with you?”

“No,” Alec shook his head, pressing his forehead on Magnus’s shoulder. “This is the part I tell you I hoped you and I were some infallible love story across the universes. This is the part I tell you that as different as everything is here, there’s also so much that’s still the same. Izzy’s heart, Jace’s confidence, Clary’s stubbornness…my insecurities… _yours_.”

“ _Alec—_ ”

The tears that filled Isabelle’s eyes and blurred her vision did not stop her from continuing to listen in.

“I _hate_ Maryse, _Mags_.” All pretense of personal space was thrown out the window as Alec snuck his arms under Magnus’ open vest and around his torso. “The woman threw me out and kept me from my family. I was never good enough for her. Not charismatic like my father nor intelligent like my sister. I didn’t even have Max’s athleticism. I was the son that should have met every expectation she’d set, and when I fell short, I became disposable—easily replaced by my younger siblings.”

Bejeweled hands grounded Alec with one on his nape and the other on the small of his back. Magnus decided against erecting privacy wards to prevent Isabelle from hearing the man in his arms. If any good could come out of this entire mess, then it could be that Isabelle would know a bit of what could be going on in her brother’s mind and therefore know better how to deal with it.

“I tried to kill myself and she visited me once after, to tell me I can’t go back unless I went to a therapist of her choosing to _fix me_. And when I declined, she kicked me out and _f-fuck, Mags, I hate her._ I hate her because all I ever…All I’d ever— _Why didn’t she ever love me?"_

“Oh, Alexander.” Magnus knew he wasn’t imagining the small gasp from Isabelle, but he kept his attention on Alec, who’d buried his face into the crook of Magnus’ neck and shoulder. “Sometimes, the way we are loved and the way we want to be loved don’t line up.”

He thought of his own experiences with love and family. A mother who would rather die than keep seeing her demon son and a demon father who only ever saw him as a means to further his own power; he’d felt so starved for love and affection that he sought it out everywhere else. It had led to lasting friendships and great (though sometimes tragic) romances, but mostly, it left him feeling as If he always fallen short.

“I’m sorry for all the hardships you went through, and I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be faced with even a shadow of it here…” Honestly, Magnus had no idea where he was going with his train of thought. “But try to remember that there is love out there and in your life; ones greater than that which you seek from your mother. You’ve told me about your sister and your brother, and even your half-siblings. They love you as you are, especially as you continue to teach them to love themselves and never let themselves be treated as anything less than they’re worth.”

“Can you…”

“Hm?”

“Mags always just cuddled with me whenever…”

Magnus couldn’t help the way his eyes drifted to Isabelle, who must have stepped to the side and out of their view. A quick feel around his wards told him that she was indeed off to the fire escape, pressing herself to the brick wall behind her.

“Please, Magnus,” Alec’s grip on him tightened, though there wasn’t any space left between them to lessen any further.

With another thoughtful hum, Magnus snapped his fingers and changed their clothes to a comfy set of pajamas. Even Isabelle wasn’t spared. If there was anything Magnus was sure of in that moment, it was that she wouldn’t be able to pull herself away from her brother no matter his origin.

“Isabelle,” he called out. “Why don’t you join us, darling?”

When Alec didn’t protest, Magnus took it as consent. Alec uncurled himself from around Magnus, but his fingers find purchase on the sleeve of Magnus’ olive top, pinching and rubbing the fabric between the side of his forefinger and thumb.

“Come on, Izzy,” Alec called out, when Isabelle didn’t seem to return. “Cuddle buddies.”

She peeks around the corner from the balcony, and even from that distance it’s obvious to see that she had been crying, or at least had also become very upset when she’d heard Alec’s words. The hot pink pajamas Magnus had conjured for her made Alec snort, and he held his other hand out to her.

“We have that too,” Isabelle took his offered hand with a small smile.

Alec exhaled into her hair as he pulled her in and headed for the direction of his room, tugging Magnus right along with them.

He arranged them without speaking; Isabelle to his right and Magnus to his left. With minimal effort, he guided Isabelle’s head to rest on his chest, the same way his own sister liked to do whenever they had these moments. He’d never shared such a moment with his sister and Mags at the same time though, but with his earlier explosion at Magnus in mind, the awkwardness of the moment was already beginning to settle between them. Though it had been comforting to be held by him, it lacked the familiarity and figurative warmth he had been seeking from his Mags. He refused to be parted from the warlock though, and so kept his fingers loosely intertwined with Magnus.

The cold of Magnus’ rings contrasted with the warmth of his skin, a subtle reminder to Alec that this was not his Mags. It left him feeling hollow in a way even his breakdown didn’t.

When Isabelle and Alec started to talk, Magnus offered them as much privacy as he could despite being in the same bed. He summoned his client log, looking through the appointments he had to move around in order to attend to the Spiral Labyrinth’s summons and address Ragnor’s supposed death.

It wasn’t long before Alec fell asleep, giving Magnus and Isabelle the chance to slip away. He offered to conjure dinner, and Isabelle agreed only if he’d dine with her.

“Do you think that’s how my brother feels too?”

“I think,” Magnus said in lieu of a categorical answer, “The only way to know is to speak to your brother.” He looked around the apartment, trying not to think too hard of the times said brother had been there since their first meeting. “It might also be helpful to remind him that he is loved and accepted.”

Magnus kept his gaze elsewhere, knowing and feeling how closely Isabelle was studying him. She placed a golden envelope on the table between them.

Confused, Magnus watched as she slid it even closer to him with the pads of her fingers.

“I’ll be sure to do that, and I’d also like to invite you to the—”

“Is that really such a good idea?” He made no move to take the invitation.

“I’m allowed a plus one,” shrugged Isabelle. “There’s no law prohibiting downworlders from attending nephilim weddings because—”

“The Clave never thought such a thing would have ever mattered.” Magnus finished, amused. Briefly, he couldn’t help but think how easy it could have been if this Lightwood had caught his attention instead. But of course—

_“You’ve unlocked something in me.”_

A few minutes after Isabelle had departed, Alec came to join Magnus.

“I’m sorry for…” Alec gestured to the living room, “All of that.”

“While I don’t think you need to apologize, I’ll accept it just the same for your peace of mind.” Magnus glanced at him, but mostly kept his eyes on the view of the city. “Drink?” He offered with a wave of his hand, a glass of wine appearing in his hold.

Alec hummed, coming to stand beside Magnus and taking the drink in both of his hands. Neither reacted nor made mention of the way their skin felt against the other. “I think alcohol is the last thing I should be consuming right now.”

A snap of Magnus fingers and the drink was converted to a steaming mug of hot chocolate. The large helping of marshmallows and chocolate shavings left Alec aching for Mags stronger than ever. Even without tasting it, they both knew it would be exactly as Alec wanted it. An entire dimension away and his fiancé was still looking out for him, the magic surrounding him interacting with Magnus’ to provide for Alec.

Not bothering to hide it, Alec watched Magnus as he fished a marshmallow out and popped it into his mouth. His words earlier that evening were a little hazy, but he remembered the gist of what he’d said—or at least, what had been going through his mind.

Magnus shifted, an elbow resting on the rail to face Alec properly.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” Alec murmured after a slow sip.

Other than a tilt of his head, Magnus offered no other prompt for Alec to continue.

“Ragnor was supposed to be here in my stead.”

The admission hung between them, heavy in its implications. Magnus could see Alec giving him the time to process the information. This had been a planned trip. Ragnor had attempted to cross over to their dimension. Mags probably knew and sanctioned it. What could have possibly—

“Ragnor had planned on coming here, talking to his version in this dimension, and then returning to ours.” Alec placed the mug on the rail, taking off the ring Magnus had thought anchored his consciousness as well as Mags’ magic. He took Magnus’ hand, turning his palm over and pressing the ring into it.

His confusion was written plainly on his face, though Magnus said nothing.

“He was going to deliver this to himself; to keep it safe for you when the time was right.” Alec could feel his eyes water and his voice tremble. “I meant it, you know? You deserve someone who will love you heart and soul, Magnus Bane.”

Alec closed Magnus’ fingers around the ring, cradling the closed fist in both his hands.

“In my world, I get to have that privilege. We’ve had three wonderful years together, and Mags and I are looking forward to spending the rest of our lives together.” At this, Alec tipped Magnus’ chin so that they could look into each other’s eyes as he continued, “ _Both_ of our lives.”

And as if a veil had been lifted, Magnus could feel just how and why Alec wasn’t just thinly covered in Mags’ magic. The magic that he had previously thought was an effect of being Mags’ lover was actually imbued in the ring. It throbbed with heat in Magnus’ hand, offering itself as a power source, but not insisting to be used.

Then Alec’s words settled into the white noise of Magnus’ mind.

_Both of their lives._

“He’s beyond grateful your Clary burst through his shop and jumpstarted his magic.” Alec cradled Magnus’ face with one hand, while the other tightened over Magnus’ still closed fist. “If he hadn’t appeared in the Alice in Wonderland party, well…I’d like to think we still would have met, but I’m glad I don’t have to wonder. Loving him has been an honor, and being at the receiving end of his love an even bigger one. When I first found out about his immortality, I was devastated. I didn’t really understand what it meant for us, and I eventually resigned myself to withering away while the love of my life remained the same.”

Magnus felt his glamor slip as his eyes closed, heart aching for the pain Alec’s words caused.

“I would have been more than happy to be his love at the time.” Alec’s warmth drew closer, telling Magnus the man must have leaned in. “We’d share each other’s every happiness and every hurt…then I considered becoming a vampire to be with him for the rest of his life as well.”

It wasn’t lost on either of them the way Magnus tensed, especially when his unglamored eyes opened suddenly.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m still decidedly mundane.” Alec’s tone softened considerably at the sight of the golden cat eyes so similar to Mags’ and yet not quite as striking. “And Mags is as close to it as possible again right now.”

The ring felt even heavier with the revelation.

“He proposed to me with this ring after having transferred practically all of his magic into it one night.” Alec huffed, “It didn’t make him mortal, no, but it got us thinking…got us looking.”

“Don’t.” Magnus found himself saying, voice hoarse. “I don’t want to know what you found or… _how_. That’s not… _I have no need for it._ ”

Hating himself for it, Magnus’ mind reminded him:

 _“You expect me to give up my life for you? I could lose my family, my career,_ everything _.”_

The weight of the words hung heavier now than it had when they’d left Alexander’s lips.

“And this…” Magnus pried his hand from Alec’s hold, opening it to reveal the inconspicuous piece of jewelry identical to his own.

“Is for you,” Alec rushed to say. “Someday, you’ll have a choice to make, and we can only hope to pay forward what love and happiness we’d found in each other. He didn’t want to reabsorb the magic he’d placed in the ring because—”

“Power attracts power.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what he said. Our friends were in agreement that it was dangerous to just keep the ring in our dimension. It would be tempting fate too much to have such a strong artifact exist in a realm where there are no shadowhunters or demons to offset any potential problem caused by the ring. Nephilim energy is very potent, after all, even if it came from a fallen angel.”

And wasn’t that another revelation? This Alec knew Magnus’ father and understood a bit of the implications of it, it seemed.

“So we figured we’d send it here. It can serve as a power boost when you need it.” His fingers twitched, barely suppressing the impulse to put the ring on Magnus. Instead, he took Magnus’ other hand, thumb rubbing against the _B_ ring identical to the one he’d given Magnus.

Magnus closed his hand over Alec’s ring once again, letting his fist drop to his side.

“Or as protection for those you care about.”

The vision of a ruby necklace flashed in his mind, unbidden. It had been a promise and a defense mechanism to protect the woman he had once loved. Nothing in Alec’s gaze told him that he knew what Magnus was thinking, though he wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“Ragnor would have been a good judge of whether or not you truly needed it.” Alec smiled. “We were assuming that he was still very much a recluse and a gossip across most dimensions.”

Returning his smile, Magnus quipped, “Well you certainly know my Cabbage.”

Alec shook his head, “I know _you_. Despite your desire to push everything and everyone away because of the eventual heartbreak that caring about people brings about, your heart is far too big to stay uncaring for long. Your capacity to love is something that will always differentiate you from your father, and will fuel your willingness to help whenever you are with those that need it.”

They just blinked at each other for a moment.

“Mags knew that giving you the ring himself would have been too much; that sometimes the person you believed in the least is yourself.”

“Sounds like a smart man,” chuckled Magnus even as his voice trembled.

“He’s brilliant,” agreed Alec easily pride for his partner evident. “Dot actually offered to be the one to deliver it, but I just…there was something in me that demanded I be the one to deliver it to you.”

Magnus swallowed.

“And I think I understand now.” Alec stepped right into his space, enveloping Magnus in his arms. “I look at you and you look like my Mags but _aren’t_. You have his smile and his abs,” the pinch to his side Magnus delivered did not deter him from continuing, “But less of his subtlety. I look at you and I see… _me_. I know that tortured look you get whenever Camille or Alec is mentioned. I know that uncertainty between wanting to be true to who you are and what you’re perceived to be. I know what it feels to lose yourself in parties and sex only to come home feeling empty and alone.”

The tension in Magnus’ shoulders didn’t fade, but Alec had a feeling he was getting through to Magnus.

“When I say I look at you and I know you, it isn’t because you’re this dimension’s Mags. It’s because you speak so much to who I had been, before…”

“Thank you,” Magnus whispered with a sigh, cutting him off, unwilling to hear any more, “for all of this.”

Alec hummed, letting go only when Magnus relaxed. “Now, I think it’s about time we had a really late dinner. God, I could use a burger.”

And though Magnus marveled at the whiplash, he shook his head and grinned, snapping his fingers to set themselves up with food and drinks in the living room. Considering he’d already eaten with Isabelle, Magnus simply conjured some dessert for himself.

An hour later, they lounged in the living room, Magnus reading through the spell he would be performing on Jocelyn tomorrow, while Alec painted his toenails. It was a glittery gold that Alec had admitted he never used, usually preferring pastels, but had chosen tonight in preparation for tomorrow night’s possible plans.

“I still can’t believe you have your own night club,” Alec muttered, applying a second coat of polish on his toes.

Magnus chuckled, “And I can’t believe I agreed to bring you there.”

“If you didn’t, I’m sure I could convince Izzy or Clary to take me.”

The warlock shook his head, smiling. “It worries me how easily you warmed up to Biscuit, when the Alec of this dimension hates her with a passion.”

Alec snorted, “I think we both know a little bit of why she rubbed him the wrong way. Even I was a little annoyed at Clar when I first met her.” When Magnus offered only a huff of laughter, Alec turned his attention on the pensive warlock.

It said a lot about the ease with which they moved with each other after all that had occurred in the past twenty-four hours. They were compartmentalizing everything, Alec knew. His earlier breakdown was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. When he returned, he and Mags were going to have _words_ and I missed you sex, but also _a lot of words_. But what about Magnus? Who did this Magnus get to go and unload all of this on—especially with Ragnor gone, Raphael with his own shit to deal with, and Cat constantly busy.

“I heard you had a run in with Camille today,” he began, adopting an air of nonchalance as he switched to the other foot. “In my dimension, she isn’t a problem anymore.”

There was a story there, but Magnus was in no mood to inquire. Instead, Magnus told Alec about what had happened: of Camille demanding to be freed from the repercussions of her actions; of Alexander’s arrival; of the Circle’s attack; and of his visit to Raphael. He made no mention of the odd interaction with Alexander while at Camille’s apartment and after, feeling it a little too odd to retell such a thing to practically the same man.

“Raphael will make a great Clan leader.”

Surprised at the conclusion, Magnus frowned.

“That’s what’ll happen right? If he’s been her second-in-command, then it stands to reason he’d take her place.”

“Is he…” Magnus used a finger to trace the words on the page he was reading. “In your dimension as well?”

Nodding, Alec placed down the bottle of polish, looking for the clear topcoat he’d set aside earlier. “Has been leading for thirty years or so, I’ve been told. Although I don’t think it came about in the same way.”

A small wave of Magnus’ fingers had the clear liquid zipping to Alec’s hand.

“Thanks.”

“Your Mags,” hedged Magnus. “How could he have agreed to let you go on this mission with no sure way of going back?”

“He doesn’t _let_ me do anything.” Alec rolled his eyes. “And there’s a way of getting back,” he looked around the living room, various antiques previously owned by Ragnor still scattered everywhere. “You just have to help me figure it out.”

Magnus and he locked gazes once again, and the warlock frowned. If he were in Mags’ place, how would he ensure that Alec could still find a way to go back?

“I’ve been told you’re good with recovering memories.”

_Oh._

An hour later found Alec and Magnus physically standing in the middle of a pentagram, and Magnus mentally in Alec’s mind.

The memory unfolded before Magnus with barely a brush of his magic.

_“Come back to me.” Mags told Alec, worry and anxiety conveyed by the caress on Alec’s cheek and the grip he had on his fiancé’s hands._

_“Of course.” Alec pressed a kiss to Mags’ forehead. “It’s only another dimension.”_

_Ragnor cleared his throat. “As sweet as you two are, I need to explain just how you’re going to be able to get back here. I can’t exactly give you a portal shard because we aren’t risking opening this dimension to demons, but the information can’t just be floating inside your head too, so Magnus will have to seal your memory until the Magnus of the other dimension can help you.”_

_Alec squinted at the pair, then glanced at the others in the group; Tessa and Catarina._

_“When you deem it fit, explain to Magnus that he needs to unlock a memory of yours.”_

Magnus was surprised when he took the place of Alec in the memory, Mags taking a step back and unlatching from him. Ragnor regarded him with a familiar smile. He felt the tears fall down his cheeks before he could even comprehend the sting in his eyes.

_“Hello, old friend.”_

_“Ragnor,” Mags chastised softly._

It was a memory, Magnus knew. Everything was pre-recorded, like a video he’s getting to experience in virtual reality. These are things that have come to past in Alec’s dimension, but the way Ragnor looked at him and then spoke to him felt as if his closest and oldest friend was speaking to him in the present.

_“I’m sorry for your loss.”_

And it hurt.

_“But I’m afraid I’ll be needing your help to clean up this mess.”_

So much.

_“And isn’t this a wonderful change of pace from the norm?”_

_“Ragnor, don’t antagonize him.” It was Tessa who called out then._

_“Apologies,” acquiesced Ragnor. “And, I’ll apologize even more now because I won’t actually tell you how to send Alec back. The information is actually written and kept in your dimension, in a journal that would respond to you or Catarina. All you need is to need it and it shall come to you.”_

The red journal he’d gotten from Camille’s apartment came to mind.

_“Of course, I wouldn’t make it too easy on you, so I’d suggest bringing our family together to figure it out.”_

Ragnor’s teasing smile soothed a wound in Magnus that hadn’t yet scabbed over.

_“I’ve always said you deserve happiness, my friend. I understand that perhaps you’ve yet to let go of painful memories, but never harden yourself to the point ofrefusing to pursue love.”_

_Mags jumped in then, “Even if it’s just the possibility of it.”_

“But how do you know it’s worth it?” Magnus found himself asking, despite knowing that no answer would come.

And yet—

_“There is no guarantee of happily ever after,” Tessa came to stand by Mags, while Catarina joined Ragnor’s other side. “But that doesn’t mean you ought to stay locked in your own world.”_

_“To love is to live, Magnus Bane.” Catarina smiled, comforting as always._

_Ragnor’s own smile was serene. “And we all hope that when even the simple possibility of love arrives, then you fight for it.”_

_Mags stepped up to him then, fixing the lapels of his jacket. “I trust you to send him back, okay? We both deserve happiness,” Mags’ smile twisted into a small smirk, “No matter what we often think.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaaand phew! Other Alec has been through _a lot_.
> 
> Not entirely sure about getting back to regular updates yet, but here have one that I've had for a while now.
> 
> 💚


	7. Day Three: The Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for: discussion of homophobic behavior, self-destructive tendencies, and implied conversion therapy

**ALEXANDER**

Alec stumbled as he found himself with an armful of Isabelle Lightwood just as he was exiting the Ops Center. Over her head, he saw Jace and Clary look on worriedly. The former didn’t bother to say anything, taking the redhead’s hand and walking to the residential area. Alec maneuvered Isabelle to his side, tucked under his arm and still mostly wrapped around him and followed the couple.

When they were within the confines of his room, he was effectively tackled to the bed by a crying Isabelle.

“Iz, Izzy, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He murmured as he rubbed her back soothingly. It’s been years since Isabelle had needed him to soothe her through a nightmare, and even longer since she’d openly cried in his arms. To have her in such a state worried both he and Jace as her brothers and sworn protectors.

Her tears didn’t ease up, and he shot his _parabatai_ and the redhead a look, as if to demand they explain why one of the strongest women he knew was curled up around him without even attempting to explain why. He continued to soothe her as best he could, stuck between feeling anger or despair.

Jace’s helpless shrug and the tightening of the arms the couple had around each other told him just how clueless they were as well. They had taken careful steps to be closer to the siblings on the bed, but only Clary reached out to stroke careful fingers down Isabelle’s back. One thing was for sure, the _parabatai_ silently agreed, whoever made their sister cry was going to pay.

“I want Alec-Izzy time.” Isabelle hiccuped into Alec’s chest, fists clenched on the fabric of his shirt. “No Jace.” She murmured, freezing when she felt Clary’s fingers once again. “No Clary.”

“Okay, Izzy,” agreed Alec easily. “Alec-Izzy time.”

A childish agreement he’d come up with when Jace had first arrived into their parents’ care and Isabelle was put out that Alec’s attention was suddenly divided between more than just herself or their training. Alec-Izzy time was sacred and trumped even _parabatai_ training, once.

“Jace, make sure everything’s in order with the prisoners. We’re done questioning them tonight, but I’m sure one last patrol in the cells wouldn’t hurt.” Alec maneuvered himself and Isabelle to lay more comfortably. “Clary, report to Lydia and see if she needs help with anything else.”

The couple nodded, spared Isabelle one last look, then left.

When the door closed behind them, Isabelle untangled herself from Alec’s arms. She laid on her right side, facing him, left hand still gripping his shirt in a habit she’d developed as a child whenever Alec had come to soothe her after a nightmare or a particularly bad tantrum.

“You know I love you, right?” Isabelle’s voice came out hoarse. Her makeup was a mess, her eyes swollen and red, and her cheeks blotchy and streaked with dried tears. “You know that Jace and I—and _Max_ —we love you, _hermano_. We would never—if they—you!”

“Izzy,” Alec murmured, “Izzy, Izzy, you aren’t making sense here. Why don’t you start from the beginning?” He used a thumb to wipe away her tears. “Did something happen with Other Alec?”

 _With Magnus_ , he’d wanted to ask, but he figured his other self would probably have more of an effect on his sister than the warlock.

So Isabelle told him of what she’d gathered had happened between Other Alec and his mother, and what could have probably occurred when Other Alec had encountered _Former Head of the Institute_ Maryse Lightwood. She made sure to keep silent about everything else. The situation was painful enough for everyone. Magnus and her brother would sort things out between themselves if they wanted to (and she prayed they would).

Alec listened quietly to Isabelle recounting that Other Alec had broken down; that he’d admitted to a less-than-caring relationship with his own mother; that he’d been sent away from his family—disowned and effectively _exiled._

_And yet…_

He couldn’t help but think.

_And yet, Other Alec had managed to adapt and rebuild. He’d managed to stand on his own and…_

Alec continued to assure Isabelle that he was definitely aware that she and Jace cared for him; that they would stand by him—that there was no need nor reason to have to prove it to him.

_And Other Alec had managed to find Magnus Bane and have him in his life, seemingly without worry or consequence._

“I know you’re going through a lot, Alec,” Isabelle’s voice was strong and closer to her normal timbre, but still soft thanks to the intimacy of their situation. “Jace and I will probably never understand completely just how much pressure you’re under,” she admitted with a sigh, “And we’ve taken for granted just how far and how often you’ve shielded us from having to bear that in the first place, but never forget that we’re all there for each other.”

Alec hummed his agreement, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Three go in,” she nuzzled closer to the warmth of her brother.

“Three go out.” He finished, heart feeling lighter than it had in a while.

* * *

Lydia cradled the cup of coffee in both her hands, as if to let the warmth seep into her skin. She looked fine, Alec supposed, but definitely a little worse than when she had first arrived at the Institute. Her eyes were a little puffy and if it weren’t for the light makeup she wore, he wouldn’t be surprised if her skin were blotchy the same way Isabelle’s had been.

“Good morning,” he said after having poured himself a cup and taking a seat across from her. It was just before breakfast time, so the Institute cafeteria was sparsely populated save for those cleaning up and preparing for service.

“I’ve helped whip other Institutes into shape,” murmured Lydia with a small smile, “But I’ve never felt this level of exhaustion before.”

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

She squinted at him, lifting the cup to her lips. “I didn’t know there was anything you had to apologize for.”

“My mother—”

“Is old enough to know better how to act; especially considering she’s the former Head.”

“Other Alec—”

“Is his own person and apologized as soon as he could.”

Alec looked down at the dark liquid of his beverage. He didn’t particularly like black coffee, but liking drinks that were sweet didn’t seem strong or masculine, and he needed to keep—

“There’s a lot we still need to prepare for the wedding,” Lydia’s voice was soft and had a shade of something a little…sad? “But this mess with the Circle is just as important to the Clave as it is for us to ensure that the Institute remains in our hands.”

“How can I help?”

“I need you to check back on the men you were able to capture yesterday. Some of them have already revealed all that they know in exchange for a lighter sentence, but two refused to speak at all.” She sighed. “Your mother was thorough in her questioning, but perhaps a different approach would benefit us.”

With a nod, Alec considered all that he would need to do to gather intel from the prisoners. He was never a fan of such a task, but part of his training to become the Head did involve _information extraction._

For a moment, he thought they would continue on in silence, but Lydia cleared her throat and reached out a hand between them to get his attention.

Even before she spoke, he had a feeling whatever she was going to say, he wouldn’t be too happy with.

“Magnus sent a message about an hour ago telling me he would be able to perform the spell to revive Jocelyn today. I need you to oversee that while I make sure your mother understands and remembers how the Clave wishes everything to proceed.”

He agreed to the assignment readily, knowing that Lydia was the better person to deal with an irate Maryse Lightwood and holding on to the opportunity to see and be with Magnus once again, even if it meant being around Other Alec.

“According to the schedule you’d set, Jace will be looking after Other Alec, right? I’d like to alter it so that Mr. Jace not-Lightwood could join me for a meeting with his possible grandmother.”

Alec paused.

“Considering how right Other Alec was about Clary and Jace not being related, as well as some thing about his version of myself, maybe we could have a bit of a silver-lining in all of this by reuniting more than just the Fairchilds.” She reached for the half-eaten croissant she’d had before her.

“That’s…I’m sure he’d love that.”

Lydia looked up at him from beneath her lashes, offering a small smile once more, “He’s my fiancé’s _parabatai_ , of course I’d help out.”

And though she was the one who said it, they both seemed to flinch at the word.

_“You’ll be lonely all your life, and so will she.”_

The number of people trickling into the room let them know those on the graveyard shift were due to return soon, and Lydia would need to be at the Ops Center to ensure a smooth shift change. They both stood then.

He’d escort Lydia to the Center and then head down to the dungeons.

* * *

Alec felt the air leave his lungs as he opened the Institute’s doors to let Magnus in.

“Good morning.” He held himself formally, as he’d been trained to do when welcoming anyone into the Institute. “Everything has been set up in the Ops Center.”

He tried not to stare, recalling Other Alec’s comments—not at Magnus’ clothes or his hair; not at his rings or the way he was gesturing to Other Alec, having been caught mid-conversation once again.

“Thank you,” Magnus smiled. The “Please lead the way,” was unnecessary in hindsight, considering that Magnus very well knew where the Center was, but then Other Alec stomped ahead.

Magnus turned to Alec and rolled his eyes, though his lips betrayed his amusement, before turning and following Other Alec and eventually overtaking the mundane.

He watched Magnus walk towards the Ops Center, Other Alec following behind the warlock closely. The familiar curl of discomfort settled in his stomach as he noted just how close Other Alec was to the warlock. Something had changed between yesterday and today. Beyond even what Isabelle had shared with him, maybe, he couldn’t help but consider.

Truth be told, Alec assumed there was more to the story—that there must be stuff Isabelle had neglected to tell him or that more had happened or been discussed when she had left. She had said that Other Alec had been asleep by the time she’d departed the loft, but there was no reason to believe that he had remained asleep. And the discomfort in his stomach worsened at the thought of Other Alec and Magnus having been left alone once again, _all night_.

Magnus stopped and turned to Other Alec abruptly, drawing the man into whispered conversation that Other Alec seemed to be exasperated by. Curious, Alec let himself move towards them stealthily, and drawing a rune on his wrist to enhance his hearing.

“I’m staying with you,” Other Alec insisted, and to Alec, it sounded as if it were a an argument they’d already had.

“I have matters to attend to, _baby_ ,” was Magnus’ patient and teasing reply. “We’ve been over this. I drop you off, wake Jocelyn, then head out. I’ll be back earlier this time, I promise.”

Other Alec was not dissuaded. “You can glamour me so I can stay with you.”

“No,” huffed Magnus. “Not only would the shadowhunters not allow that, _I_ won’t let you.”

“Is this about Camille again?” At this, Alec tensed. What did Other Alec know of Camille? Was she causing trouble once again? He’d barely moved to intervene when Other Alec continued, “Or are you going out to meet Raphael and Cat?”

At this, Magnus seemed to hesitate, eyes darting around before eventually landing on Alec. “Ah, Alec, is it safe to assume Jocelyn is at the Ops Center as well?”

 _Alec_. Not Alexander. He bit his tongue and nodded. “Luke arrived a few minutes ago with Clary. They’re all together with Izzy, Jace, and Lydia there.”

“Alright, thank you.”

He knew he was being dismissed, but Alec couldn’t bring himself to leave them alone. “Was there anything else you’d need to wake her?”

Magnus seemed to consider it, sparing Other Alec a glance, before nodding. “Maybe have a medic nearby to look her over. I would do a quick scan immediately following the spell, of course, but I’m sure you have your own standard set of procedure for returning shadowhunters.”

“Alright,” nodded Alec, turning to do as instructed, despite disliking walking away from the pair. If he decided to move a little more slowly and strained his enhanced hearing, no one would know.

“Just as you’ve trusted me with your truth, I hope you’d trust me with mine.” He heard Magnus tell Other Alec. “I have to attend to this myself, but I’ll come back for you and we’ll follow through with our plans for the evening.”

 _Plans for the evening?_ Alec didn’t think he could feel more wound up than he already did. His mind’s eye conjured a variety of things that could be done at night, every one of them doing nothing to ease the feeling that had wormed itself from his gut and up into his chest.

Other Alec sighed, “Fine.”

Fortunately, someone on the way to the Ops Center ranked below him, so he pawned off Magnus’ task to call for a medic. He returned to the pair just as Other Alec straightened his posture, smirking.

“I’ll go to the others.” Other Alec nodded at his counterpart, then winked at Magnus. “See you, _Daddy_.”

Magnus rolled his eyes, but Alec could see the fond smile that stayed on the warlock’s lips as they both watched Other Alec head to their destination.

“My apologies about yesterday’s…episode.” Magnus’ gaze remained in the direction of the Ops Center. “He hasn’t exactly trained for demons and wars, but we’ve spoken and…I’m sure Isabelle has shared with you a fair bit of what had transpired last night. He woke up again when she’d left, and I’ve managed to gather more information about the great war his Magnus had shared with him, that led to the loss of magic and eradication of demons in his dimension. I’ll be sure to include that in the report and I can have a draft sent tonight, if you need it.”

“No! I mean, yes that would be great, but if you’re busy, I can—we can wait.”

Magnus’ smile was small and soft, eyes turning pensive. “To be a mundane thrust into this world that’s so similar and yet so different to his own is…I personally think he’s dealing with it far better than I would have.” He shook his head, continuing to walk once again.

Alec stumbled a little as he moved to catch up with the warlock. “There’s no need to apologize for yesterday. If anything I should apologi—”

“That would be something,” Magnus’ tone was laden with amusement. “Apologizing to someone that has your likeness…”

* * *

“Magnus,” Jocelyn took a step towards him after she’d engulfed Luke and Clary in a hug and been looked over by a medic. She was prevented from greeting him the same way by Maryse’s arrival, pulling the newly-wakened Fairchild into the Head’s Office with a twitchy Lydia. The Clave envoy was not enjoying Maryse Lightwood’s refusal to accept that she was no longer in a position to boss peopler around, even Magnus could see it.

Clary moved to follow her mom, but Luke held onto her elbow before she could. “Let your mom go through all the bureaucracy first. She’ll know how and where to find you after.”

Tuning out of that conversation, Magnus walked up to the cluster of shadowhunters he’d become far too familiar with.

“I really must go,” Magnus turned to his house guest, equal parts apologetic and concerned. He’d been on the verge of agreeing to Alec’s wish to join him, but knew better than to involve the mundane more than he already was.

Alec frowned and crossed his arms, but nodded. “I’ll stay with whoever my babysitter is.”

Even without looking, the group knew Alexander had rolled his eyes. “Try not to sound too happy about it.”

Magnus rocked back and forth on his feet briefly before zeroing in on Alec. “You’re free to return to the loft whenever, in fact you and your guardian can join me now since I have items I need to pick up for my errands.”

“I have to come with you if he is.” Alexander interjected, much to Magnus’ surprise. The warlock could vaguely recall Isabelle saying that either she or Jace would be Alec’s guardian for the day. He pressed his lips together in thought, but said nothing. It was time to curb the flirtations and unnecessary conversations. Not only was the shadowhunter getting married, it must be painful for Alec to witness a version of himself and his fiancé utterly fail at being even a possible couple.

Alec shook his head. “I’ll be fine here.” He shot Magnus a sly smile. “Just don’t forget our deal, Magnus Bane.”

The warlock shook his head, laughing. “You know my conditions, Alec.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it.”

He had a feeling that Alec would have said something else—something more risqué—had they been in a more private setting, and was glad and grateful for the man’s tact. He clapped his hands together, resisting the urge to reach out and pat Alec or give him a hug.

“I shall get going then,” he nodded at the shadowhunters, particularly at Isabelle, who looked to be faring better than she had last night. Of course, he said nothing about the puffy eyes even makeup couldn’t hide, but at least she didn’t treat him or Jace any differently.

“Let me see you to the door,” Alexander volunteered, already walking by his side and leaving his sister and _parabatai_ to look after who was supposedly his charge.

Jace slung an arm around Alec, waving at the pair’s retreating figures. He pulled Isabelle into his other side, bodily maneuvering them to the training room.

“Today, we continue your introduction to the bo staff!”

* * *

Neither spoke as they walked, and when Magnus turned to him when they reached the doors, Alec shook his head and opened it for the warlock so that he could follow him out. They walk off to the side, away from mundanes’ prying eyes and the surveillance cameras outside the Institute.

“Thank you again, for your help with…” _Jocelyn? Isabelle’s trial? Other Alec’s situation?_ “Everything,” Alec’s eyes met Magnus’ confused gaze without hesitation.

For a second, Magnus’ eyes seemed to narrow at him, before they returned to a more neutral expression. “Of course,” agreed Magnus with a nod. “This all leads to Valentine’s eventual downfall, does it not? It’s a goal we all have and should work together to achieve. And for that, I’m happy to help.”

Alec’s hands, held behind his back as they were, clenched at the cool formality Magnus exhibited. Was this really where they stood now? Where was the warlock that had poked and prodded at, and damn near broken down, the walls of Alec’s defenses? Where was the Magnus Bane that had advocated he leave everything he’d known behind? Where was his Magnus?

The warlock lifted his hand to open a portal, but paused and looked back at him, “I suppose I should tell you now that our guest has plans to visit my club before his departure. I told him to clear it with your lovely little group, but I suppose you and Lydia should hear it from me that I’d only allow it if you would.”

Pandemonium. Other Alec wanted to go to Pandemonium with Magnus. _Like a date?_ That was what was done, wasn’t it? Two people go out for drinks and—

But no, didn’t Other Alec have his own Magnus at home to go back to?

“I’ll talk to Lydia about it,” replied Alec, mind already working to think of reasons _not to make it work._ To have Magnus and Other Alec out and about spelled trouble—

And anguish.

“There would need to be a guard with him, should we allow it,” he tacked on, ever the diplomat. There wasn’t something inherently wrong with the mundane’s wish to see the club owned by the man housing him, but it was a security risk.

“Of course,” agreed Magnus. “I offered tomorrow night as a possible time, since I would be sufficiently recovered from all the errands I have to run today on top of reviving Jocelyn, and I hope it would also be enough time to rearrange Isabelle’s schedule, if needed.”

“Izzy?”

Magnus seemed just as confused as Alec felt, brows furrowing, “I figured it could be taken out of the bodyguard duties the Institute would owe me for taking Alec in.”

The shadowhunter had to bite his tongue from childishly refuting that _he was Alec, and that the mundane was Other Alec_. “That seems like a waste of an advantageous resource.”

“Much like your bow, I wouldn’t know what to do with a bodyguard anyways,” Magnus said with a shrug, “Much less a shadowhunter.”

“I’ll let you know what Lydia and I come up with.”

The genuine smile Magnus offered him hurt more than he cared to admit or look into. He watched as Magnus created a portal and left, hating how often he was having to watch Magnus’ back recently.

And yet, hadn’t Magnus always been looking at his?

Especially—

_“I will not ask again.”_

And he hadn’t.

Alec was grateful for it.

He really was.

Truly.

He had to be.

* * *

“What do you think of it?” Lydia looked up at him, seated as she was in the Head’s chair. “We can certainly decline on account of it being an unnecessary trip.”

Alec’s brows furrowed,“But you want to grant it.”

“Your group has been beyond helpful in the hunt to find Valentine. The fact that you got close enough to capture those that had accompanied him in the ambush at Camille Belcourt’s lair is proof of that.”

“That had nothing to do with Other Alec,” he was quick to point out.

“But you can’t deny that a night out would be seen as a reward by your sister and your _parabatai_. Whether Isabelle’s time will be debited from what we owe Magnus can be settled later on, and having Jace out with them would ensure that Isabelle could technically be Magnus’ bodyguard while Jace watches out for Other Alec.”

Well, Alec couldn’t deny the logic behind that.

“Unless you have a reason not to allow it…?” Lydia tilted her head and squinted at him. She didn’t seem to be judging him, but she was definitely studying him.

He didn’t. Not really. He could make a case for it being a waste of resources, but Jace and Isabelle were already pulled from regular rotation to keep an eye on Other Alec anyways. With Clary focusing on Jocelyn, and his _parabatai_ wanting a distraction after the meeting with his grandmother, Jace was bound to want to go clubbing too. Mixing business and pleasure was always one of those things Isabelle and Jace agreed on and excelled at.

Alec really ought to just approve the trip and let them go. He absolutely should. The pair could handle practically anything on their own, not to mention Magnus would be there to help out (and that it was his place) should anything happen.

But the thought of Other Alec in another of Magnus’ spaces made him feel ill. What was Other Alec even hoping to gain with visiting Pandemonium?

“Look, we’re going to be running this Institute together,” Lydia pointed out, and the finality of her words really shouldn’t have unsettled him as much as it did. He had been the one to propose! If anyone should have been secure about all that was going to happen because of his proposal, it should have been him. “And that means we make these sorts of decisions together. Personally, I’d grant the request if only to get a bit on the good side of your siblings. But if you wish to decline for any reason at all, then I’ll support that too. I do trust your judgment, contrary to previous actions.”

“Alright,” he replied with a nod. “I’ll talk to Izzy and Jace. See what they think too.”

Just as he turned to leave, Lydia called out his name.

“Alec,” she began as she flipped through one of the documents she had laid out in front of her. When he looked back at her, she seemed to pause for a moment to steel herself. “You should talk to Other Alec about yesterday. I’d like to think we’re friends even in this dimension, and I have a feeling the pros outweigh the cons if you reach out to him.”

* * *

**ALEC**

Jace steered their resident mundane to the training room with Isabelle trailing behind them.

“You know, we should try teaching him how to handle a whip too,” Isabelle offered as she looped her arm with Alec’s free one.

“Might end up using that for things decidedly not combative,” Alec quipped under his breath so that only the duo could hear, causing Jace to stumble and Isabelle to cackle.

“Yeah well, we’ll give it a shot, but if you’re anything like our brother, you’d probably fare better with a bow and arrow.”

Alec frowned. “Yeah, no. I mean I’m a good shot—as in, with guns—but I would rather not. The main reason I’m even mildly interested in using a staff is because it seems fun and I’m pretty sure I know at least two people in my dimension who know how to use it.” He shrugged, thinking of his fiancé and Raphael. The latter he wasn’t too sure about, but he felt it was safe to assume that the vampire clan leader would know how to defend himself outside of hand-to-hand, and would have less qualms about possibly hurting him.

Isabelle and Jace shared a look that didn’t go unnoticed by the man between them, but said nothing. It was quite obvious there was a story there, but Alec didn’t feel the need to expand upon it. There was no reason to unpack anymore baggage than he already had in this dimension.

It was three hours later that Local Alec arrived to relieve Jace of his bodyguard duties, leaving Alec at the mercy of the Lightwood siblings.

“It’s like having twins for brothers,” Isabelle pointed out as they headed to the residential wing so that Alec could take a shower and change back into the clothes he’d arrived in earlier in the day.

When Alec exited the ensuite of Other Alec’s room, he was a little concerned to find no Isabelle in sight, and only a pensive Alec Lightwood leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

“Should I be worried it’s just us?” He ran a hand through his hair, wishing he’d brought some of the pomade Magnus had at his place. Unlike Local Alec, he really did prefer his hair styled.

The raised brow he got in response served to freak him out a fair bit. Was that really what he looked like when he did that? He supposed it was kind of intimidating.

“For what it’s worth, I want to apologize for yesterday.” He sighed. All the apologies he’d been making to this dimension’s version of himself felt like an echo of all the apologies he’d needed to make to his younger self. “All the anger and repressed emotions that kind of just…” He made an explosive motion with his hands, puffing his cheeks up before letting out a soft _pop_ , “There’s no excuse for it, really, and I know it must have been shitty to deal with the aftermath.”

“Izzy was very emotional when she returned.” Local Alec said, instead of acknowledging the apology. “I assume more happened when you arrived at Magnus’.”

Alec sat himself on the bed, leaning back on his hands. “Basically broke down for a bit,” agreed Alec. “I’m back in proper working order now, though, so no more slip ups…probably.”

“Come on,” nodded Local Alec to the door. “We’re having lunch out today.”

“We are? What happened to keeping me here?”

Another raised brow. “What happened to wanting to go to Pandemonium?”

“I figured I’d have to talk Iz and Jace into it then work my way up to you and Lydia.” Other Alec shrugged after standing up.

“Why would you even want to go?”

“Other than I actually like going out and dancing? I thought it would be interesting to see what Magnus’ job here is. It’s so different from what Mags does.”

Before Local Alec could even ask about _Mags_ , Alec continued:

“And…I partly want to see what Magnus looks like in his element, I guess. If he’s as bold as he is day-to-day, what more on a night out?”

The way he unabashedly spoke of his attraction to Magnus—because really, that’s what it was, wasn’t it?—made Alec equal parts annoyed and jealous. If Lydia and Jace’s experiences with him were to be believed (and really, he didn’t have much reason to disregard the accounts of a responsible Clave envoy and his own _parabatai_ ), there was probably something to be gleaned from Other Alec’s perspective.

“But if it’ll be too much trouble,” he was quick to tack on, “I won’t push.”

“That’s why we’re going out today.”

“To see if I can blend in?”

“To see if you won’t get yourself killed.”

“Wait, are we going to some shady shadow market or a mission or something?”

“You? On a mission?” Alec scoffed. “We’re going out to grab something to eat. By the time we get back, I’ll let you know if your request is approved.”

Other Alec squinted at him before grinning. “Alright, challenge accepted!”

They passed by Isabelle and Lydia at the Ops Center, who seemed to be deep in conversation over wedding preparations. The sight of table placements made Alec sick, but he stomached it and nodded to Other Alec, who stood to his right silently.

“I’ll have him back by four.”

Isabelle frowned, looking from her brother, to her future sister-in-law, and then at Other Alec, who was looking down at the various cutlery and decorative pieces with a focus she often associated with her brother and assessing new trainees.

“The two of you enjoy your afternoon,” bade Lydia with a smile. Then she addressed Other Alec, “I hope we can talk some more while you’re here.”

The smile Other Alec shot her in return seemed shy, perhaps even bashful, much to Isabelle and Alec’s surprise. “Lunch tomorrow, maybe?”

Lydia’s smile widened even more, as she nodded. “Lunch.”

Mostly confused at the interaction, Alec shook his head and headed out.

“Alright then. Let’s go, Mundie.”

Other Alec followed with a roll of his eyes.

They arrived at a small diner a few blocks from the Institute. It tickled something in Alec that the diner was in the same place his and his siblings’ favorite pizza place were, and when he asked Local Alec if this was a place he frequented with Isabelle and Jace, he got an odd look and a nod. He hummed thoughtfully, settling into a booth and perusing the menu.

Local Alec didn’t spare it a glance, knowing the menu by heart, and took his time watching the dimension-hopper once again. There was a difference in the way Other Alec held himself now than the past couple of days. Even this morning, there had been an ease with which Other Alec navigated his interaction with Magnus as well as how he stood among the shadowhunters. Isabelle had said he had broken down last night— _into Magnus’ arms_ , she had explained—and he could just barely tamp down the curiosity that bubbled beneath the surface of his skin. What else had he and Magnus spoken of? Were there more things about himself that the warlock was privy to now that he had a version of Alec living with him?

“You can ask,” Alec said once they’d placed their orders and the waitress had walked away.

The shadowhunter tilted his head slightly, considering all he could possibly ask, before settling with, “Tell me about Maryse.”

And it was odd to call his mother by her first name, but it wasn’t any different to how she was _superior_ and _Head_ before she was actually _mother_ whenever they were at work—which was most of their lives—so it hardly mattered.

Alec snorted inelegantly, matching Alexander’s raised brow.

“I knew I was straightforward, but there really is nothing like meeting myself to know just how much.” He drummed his fingers on the table, a habit they’d both kicked as teenagers, one due to his shadowhunter training and the other due to own stubborn refusal to show any weakness.

Their drinks arrived before Alec could continue, and a brief pang of regret hit Alexander as he eyed the Oreo milkshake the mundane had ordered in comparison to the black coffee he’d gotten for himself. Alec cataloged the brief change in look and switched their drinks without a word. How fundamental it was to not appear weak or _other_ within an Alexander Lightwood that they passed up the wonderful treat that was sweet drinks in favor of the more masculine alternative that wasn’t alcohol.

“The thing about bigotry and blind loyalty, I suppose,” Alec began as he poured three sugar packets into the mug. “Is that it is something mundanes know well. Wars have been waged because for it. Millions have died because of it. Maryse Lightwood has always been devout and religious, but she was also the epitome of a New York socialite. She’d grown up in the right circles, got herself the right husband, and birthed the right number of children: a boy, a girl, adopted a child out of the _goodness_ of her heart, and a surprise baby boy that saved her marriage.”

Alexander watched as Alec poured some cream and stirred, and he looked down at the creamy beverage that had been switched for what had initially been Alexander’s order.

“As right as all the decisions were though, she was also blindly loyal, to the point of aiding a politician that had been in the middle of a huge Malpolitics and human trafficking scandal when I was maybe one or two years old. Because of that, she’s spent the rest of her life trying to make sure that her children— _extensions of herself_ —were the epitome of squeaky-clean and picture-perfect.” He paused to sip some coffee, knowing he had Alexander’s undivided attention despite the shadowhunter’s gaze remaining on the drink.

How eerily similar could their stories be?

“I spent most of my life trying to fit into this mold of her _perfect boy_. I got good grades, took care of my siblings, showed Jace the ropes when he came to live with us…Everyone told me I had a bright future ahead of me.” Alec rolled his eyes. “‘Course, then they found out I couldn’t fall in love with someone that wasn’t a man, then suddenly I was this stranger they knew absolutely nothing about. I was this anomaly that needed to be _fixed_.”

Their food arrived then, putting the entire storytelling on pause as their server chatted them up to ensure they were fine and to let her know if they needed anything else. Alexander watched, fascinated, as Alec easily donned a more approachable persona, smiling and making small talk with the woman before she eventually left them to their meal.

“Maryse wanted to send me to _therapy_ immediately, but dad intervened and they figured they’d send me to military school instead. I was grateful, of course. I thought it was an alright compromise—that it meant I at least had dad on my side. Turns out, it was just a way for him to deflect attention from his affair with one of his and mom’s oldest friends. It was a mess.” Alec sighed, chewing on his waffles.

Meeting Alexander’s gaze, Alec could read the surprise and recognition in the very same hazel eyes he had.

“I only found out about the affair as I was leaving, because Iz wouldn’t let go of me and had blurted everything out about it. As it turns out, she’d had her suspicions, and then happened upon dad and Anna Marie Highsmith out on a date on one of the days she’d skipped school. I fought to stay, but inevitably left when Maryse threatened to cut me off from the family. It was a downward spiral from there until I just…” Despite the distance years have granted him from the entire ordeal, to be faced with a facet of himself that was so similar to who he had been hit him in a way he had never experienced.

“It felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel,” murmured Alexander. “Like a cloud of gray that just wouldn’t go away, and no matter what you do, nothing was going to be enough— _you_ were never going to be enough.”

And how sad was it that in the two dimensions that they were aware of, they’d both been subjected to such suffocating thoughts? The look they shared spoke more than any conversation they could possibly hold. It offered understanding and empathy in a way no one else could really understand. It spoke of comfort in having someone go through nearly the exact same thing, but sympathy in having gone through it at all.

For the first time, Alexander did not wonder what he and Alec could possibly have in common. This time, he worried (and maybe hoped) that they had far _too much_ in common.

“I was eventually barred from seeing my siblings. When Maryse and dad divorced, I was already of age and cashed in on the inheritance my grandfather had left me to help me get started on a life of my own. It was just in time too, because I was then informed that I was prevented from directly contacting my siblings until they were of age, and that I had been struck from the will of both my parents. I later found out that dad hadn’t wanted to agree, but that Maryse had made it a condition so that he can continue to share custody over my siblings.” Again, Alec sighed, with a shake of his head. “It was a mess.”

Alexander soaked in all the information, trying to imagine a world where he was separated entirely from any of his siblings, and couldn’t find it in him to be able to do so. Even Max, whom he rarely saw recently, he still at least could see whenever their schedules permitted.

“I’m pretty sure if it weren’t for Jace bridging the gap and keeping me in contact with Iz and Max, I would have spiraled a lot worse than I did. Lydia was also a big help in keeping me occupied. We started our business and it gave me small goals to focus on…and I just never spoke to Maryse again. The last time I reached out to her was because Mags wanted me to not have any regrets and all that shit immortals think us mortals should care about.”

“He has a point,” Alexander shrugged.

“But he didn’t know Maryse Lightwood the way I did.” Alec snorted. “She absolutely lost it when I reached out, introducing Mags as my boyfriend. There were a lot of insults thrown out and a healthy dose of blaming me for Iz and Max not wanting to visit her, but really, I wasn’t about to let anyone talk that way about someone I care about—let alone my boyfriend at the time.”

“You’re very serious about him.”

It was Alec’s turn to shrug, suddenly realizing his almost slip. Magnus had been his boyfriend _at the time_. They were certainly more than that now.

Two identical gazes met, one curious and the other contemplative.

“I just…” Alec tapped his fork on the crispy bacon as he considered his next words. “I’m not much of a believer in fate or destiny. We act, and then deal with consequences, you know?” He seemed more hesitant to continue, but he did anyways. “I didn’t think Mags and I would be as serious as we are now until he was telling me we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

The younger of the pair looked at the other incredulously.

“It was our first date. We’d gone out for coffee. I’d just asked him out for another. He told me I shouldn’t waste my time.” Alec snorted at the memory, recalling a flustered looking Magnus blushing up at him with a level of seriousness and determination he hadn’t thought necessary at the time. “He said we were too different.”

Averting his gaze, Alexander looked down at his half-empty glass.

“I thought it was the fact that I was too flamboyant or that he thought I wasn’t interested in an actual relationship, but really, it was just that he didn’t think he deserved me, _that silly man._ ” Alec shook his head and popped some bacon into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “But how can I ignore the signs? From the moment, I’d met him he just…he took my breath away. And when we were on that coffee date, half of my brain was on keeping conversation, and the other half was trying to figure out how I could possibly feel so strongly for a person I’d met _once_ and trying not to fall all over myself trying to impress him.”

Alexander didn’t have to look up to know that Alec was looking at him. He could feel the weight of Alec’s gaze without it.

“And then he gave me a chance and I _did_ get to know him.” Alec huffed, “I’ve never felt the way I do for anyone else. It’s…” A faint blush crept on to his cheeks. “Tessa said, _“Nephilim love once,_ ”

“Fiercely,” finished Alexander without second thought.

Alec nodded, “And I’d like to think what diluted angel-blood I might still have has pulled me from all the shit that I went through to lead me to him…which is a lot to put at his feet, but also, not at all, because it doesn’t mean I’m blind to his faults. It just means that I love him more than I could ever dislike them, and that we’d work through everything thrown our way—together.”

Alexander could hear his own heartbeat’s heavy thump in his head.

“But every world is different,” Alec polished the rest of his food. “Just because he and I worked out in my dimension doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll work the same here.” He offered his counterpart a smile. “I’m sure you and Lydia will be a great team.”

Neither of them acknowledged just how visibly Alexander flinched at the reminder.

For a minute, neither of them spoke. There was no lying to themselves. They both knew that Lydia and Alexander would make a great team; a seamless partnership, even. But a good partnership did not a happy marriage make.

And after having followed the set path all his life, wasn’t the point of it all to be—

Happy?

Alec finished his second cup of coffee slowly, knowing he needed the caffeine boost after the night he and Magnus had had, and giving Alexander the time to ask more questions if he wanted. He would be lying if he said he didn’t have questions of his own, but looking at Alexander felt a lot like looking at himself from almost a decade ago. As much as he wanted to push for Alexander to do what would make him happy—to risk everything for a shot at the best possible thing he could ever hope to have—he was in no position to do so.

Not when Alexander himself was unwilling to give himself that opportunity.

“And you’re okay with…?”

“We might be similar in a lot of ways,” pondered Alec aloud, meeting his own hazel eyes. “But what I’ve endured and refuse to endure again at the hands of the people that brought me into the world may not be quite as similar as your experiences. All I know is that I’ve learned and understood just who my family actually is. It’s Izzy, Jace, Max, Lydia, and Mags. They’re the ones I know would be there for me through everything, and isn’t that what family’s really about?”

 _I don’t have anything else_ , Alexander thought helplessly. Angrily. What was he outside of being a shadowhunter? He wasn’t like Alec, who had the freedom to be whomever he wanted by virtue of the fact that he was mundane. No, Alec didn’t have a choice. Not really.

Not if he wanted to make sure that his family—

His family _what_ , exactly?

A text from Jace told him that Lydia and his meeting with Imogen Herondale was done, and that he could return Alec to his _parabatai_ now.

Jace and Isabelle had no trouble with Alec. They seemed to be more carefree with the mundane even, in a way he hadn’t seen them be with him in a long time.

“Time to go back?” Alec asked after Alexander had paid for their meal.

“Time to toss you back to Jace,” corrected Alexander with a smirk.

Alec grinned, “So do I get permission to go to Magnus’ club?”

“Only if both Izzy and Jace are there,” conceded Alexander, already rescheduling all his tasks so he could be there as well.

As much as he trusted his siblings, they were far too lenient on Alec. At least he knew he would keep his head on straight.

And maybe this would give him the chance to speak with Magnus.

He had to know if Alec had said anything else last night that Isabelle hadn’t been able to hear.

And maybe figure out if that meant anything too.

* * *

“I’m no good at this,” Jace threw himself onto his _parabatai’s_ bed, easily hooking one foot over Alec’s thigh. And the move alone was enough to confirm just how differently he had felt for Jace when compared to the maelstrom of emotions Magnus managed to stir within him. A look from the warlock made Alec feel both lost and yet unbelievably exposed—as if someone had taken a microscope to the nephilim and had chosen to focus on him. This casual intimacy with Jace, though, made him feel nothing more than mildly uncomfortable, if only because neither of them were particularly affectionate unless emotions or adrenaline were running hight, and maybe a little because of how infatuated he had once been with his _parabatai_ too.

He shoved Jace’s foot off with enough force to force the blond to roll over so that he was sprawled out on Alec’s bed. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen him in such a pose, but it was certainly the first time he looked at Jace and wondered what it would look like like if someone else were in Jace’s place.

“I never pushed when you try to keep something from me because I feel like I owe it to you to respect that.” Without sparing him a glance, Jace continued, “We work through the shit in our head by sparring or hunting or…”

Neither of them acknowledged their own self-destructive tendencies aloud, but the hum of comfort and the soothing _I’m here for you_ flowed freely between their bond for the first time in a long time. As if that weren’t enough to render him speechless, Alec listened to Jace repeat himself:

“I’m no good at this, Alec, but I also would like to think I’m not exactly bad at it.” Jace lifted a boot-clad foot and set his heel on Alec’s knee. “I know it was fucking shitty of me to bring up your feelings for me when I did. I will always be sorry for ever hurting you in that way, _parabatai_. But I hope you know none of it would ever be cause for me to cast you aside.”

Alec let himself be dragged down when Jace bent his leg and used his knee to nudge Alec’s chest. They laid side by side on the double bed, Alec’s bicep pressed against the side of Jace’s abdomen as the newly-minted Herondale spread out the arm closest to Alec, giving the taller man the option of shifting up or staying as they were.

“Not the crush you’d had on me,” he said bluntly when Alec made no move. “And especially not you liking men. In fact, I’m flattered, really. Outside the fact that _of course, you’d like me, I’m fucking wonderful_ , I’m…I mean, Alec, I always looked up to you. I might have been a better fighter, but you were better at everything else: strategy, management, long-range weapons, taking care of others—how can I be anything but flattered and humbled that someone as close to perfection as my _parabatai_ ever saw me as anything other than the mess that I am?”

“Jace—”

“No, I’m not done.”

The older of the pair closed his eyes, feeling the sting of tears and the throb of _admiration, respect, love—_ A few droplets escaped the corner of his eyes, and he refused to even acknowledge them.

“I won’t apologize for being part of the _heteros_ ,” the amusement in Jace’s voice was clear, and it didn’t take much to figure out who he’d even learned the term from. “But I will apologize for not letting you know just how loved and accepted you are sooner. You’ve always managed to show Izzy and I that you have our backs no matter what. I want you to know that it goes both ways. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Alec. Izzy and I are always going to be by your side.”

Overwhelmed by the steady and overflowing love and reassurance that Jace was pushing upon him, Alec felt his resolve crumble even further. He turned on his side so that his back was to Jace. There was movement behind him before he felt Jace press himself firmly against Alec’s back, chin resting atop Alec’s head and arm wrapping around Alec’s chest and shoulders.

The click of heels told Alec of Isabelle’s arrival, and it wasn’t long before they’d shifted over and they were all squished together, with Alec in the middle.

He hid his face in his sister’s neck, savoring the feeling of being wrapped up in his sister and _parabatai_. When had they last held each other like this? Has he ever been the one in the middle? The one in need of comfort? How far they’d come from the trio that had sworn to always be together. _Three go in. Three go out._

“We love you, _hermano_.” Isabelle whispered into his hair, along with other assurances and promises.

They fell asleep like that, none moving when Alec’s door opened a fraction and one Maryse Lightwood peeked through.

* * *

**MAGNUS**

Catarina paced the length of her living room, clad in clothes more comfortable than her usual hospital scrubs or nurse’s uniform. The book he’d taken from Camille’s sat on the coffee table, a darker shade of red than it had been when he’d first gotten it.

“You’re telling me that there’s a mundane from a different dimension under your protection right now?”

“I’m telling you,” Magnus threw himself on the armchair Ragnor used to favor. “There’s a dimension out there where I willingly gave up my magic to live a mostly mundane life and ended up in a relationship with the descendant of shadowhunters.”

She said nothing, but Magnus knew Catarina was simply giving him the space to speak. It was rare that he actually spoke of matters not meant to simply fill the dead air. Catarina knew it wasn’t the fact that he was dating an almost-shadowhunter that was getting to Magnus. It probably wasn’t even the giving up magic part. If the dimension really no longer had any demons and therefore shadowhunters, the best move would be to reintegrate back into mundane society.

No, Catarina had a feeling that Magnus was hung up on the fact that said mundane lover was apparently engaged to be married to the version of her friend in that dimension.

Magnus had never been married before, after all.

And the thought of spending his life— _sharing his life_ —so wholly and fully with someone was both a wish and a fear for him. She ducked her head to reread the notes on the journal Magnus had snuck out of Camille’s hideout.

“If Ragnor really isn’t dead,” Raphael began, sipping on the mostly fresh bag of O negative Catarina had brought for him. “Then would it not make our lives easier? No need for a risky ritual to bring him back from the not-limbo you three had created for yourselves, _just in case_ …” He raised an incredulous brow at that, knowing that for all the decades he had spent with the trio, they had centuries worth of memories and experiences together. Apparently, one such experience was learning how to cheat life.

Or at least, learn how to vanish from the Clave and the Labyrinth.

“I think he never was.” Magnus closed his eyes, recalling the past couple of days and trying to keep his composure in spite of all of it. “The Spiral Labyrinth contacted me about a flare of magic in New York that was deemed unusual and potentially dangerous. I had thought it was simply Alec’s arrival.”

Raphael sidled up to Catarina, reading over her shoulder. “Has something come up to make you think otherwise?”

“The High Warlock of Dublin, Siobhan, reached out to me for an odd flair of magic activity in the general vicinity of Ragnor’s home. I hadn’t thought much of it. I thought it was the attack that had caused it. Now I have a feeling that it wasn’t just that, if it were that at all.”

“Well, we’ve always known how much Ragnor valued his solitude.” Raphael said with a slow sip of blood.

“But to the point of faking his death?” Catarina looked from Magnus, to Raphael, then back. “And in front of Magnus?”

“I count as a credible witness and an official,” sighed Magnus. “We know the rules when it comes to warlock deaths. You don’t report to the Labyrinth or an official for 50 years, you’re considered a recluse. A hundred means you’re missing.”

“More than that and you’re presumed dead,” Catarina finished, settling on the sofa opposite Magnus.

“But if an official witnessed your death, then there’s no wait time. I can send a message to the Labyrinth or go there and have it recorded.”

“That’s well and good, but why would Ragnor fool you if the three of you had an arrangement in case of his death?”

“Because the ritual would have demanded the need for nephilipm, mundane, and werewolf blood too,” Catarina explained. “Virgin and freely given. The mundane blood would be easy enough to acquire between you and I,” she told Raphael.

“The werewolf blood would have been more difficult, but doable, considering the amount of favors some werewolves owe myself or Cat.” Magnus tacked on.

“Nephilim blood would be near impossible to procure, especially considering the qualifications.” Catarina ran her fingers down the cover of the journal absentmindedly. “With the brewing trouble with Valentine, Ragnor wouldn’t think we would risk the ritual—what with you the High Warlock right now. If you were to get any trouble for using nephilim blood in an undocumented ritual…”

There was no need to finish the sentence. They all knew how ruthless the Clave truly was when it came to Downworlders.

“Say Ragnor is alive, then couldn’t you track him?”

“You know how Cabbage was practically our mentor as young warlocks?” Magnus huffed while Catarina smiled fondly. “Yeah, that means knowing and exploiting the loopholes of my practice of magic. The moment I thought that he might be alive, I tried to track him, only to find that he had _bequeathed_ everything to me.”

Which meant any item he used to track Ragnor was technically _his_.

And though it made for an annoying predicament, Raphael couldn’t help his own amused smile. Ragnor always has been ten steps ahead of them all.

“How do we find Ragnor then?” He raised a brow at Magnus, “And are you sure you don’t want to settle whatever it is you have with the nephilim first?”

“That’s the thing,” laughed Magnus humorlessly. “Only Ragnor has the key to sending Alec back. And that journal supposedly has the answer to where he could possibly be hiding.”

“Are we sure Camille knows nothing?”

Raphael glared at Catarina, ready shoot down even the slightest implication of Camille helping them, but it was Magnus who spoke next.

“She didn’t even know the journal was there. It’s keyed to you and myself, Cat. If you hand it over to Rapha, I’m pretty sure the words turn to gibberish. It did as much when Alec took a look at it.” Magnus massaged the bridge of his nose. “And as fluent as I am in various languages, I hate that Ragnor wrote this in a mix of _at least_ four different languages that would take me at least a week to properly work through.”

With a shrug, Catarina handed the journal over to Raphael, who took it after setting his empty mug down. He flipped it open to a random page, eyes widening and then brows furrowing. Catarina, who had been watching him, cocked her head to the side.

“It’s all in _Spanish_.”

“Excuse me, I’m pretty sure I know español, _mi hijo_.” Magnus got up anyway, stalking over to Raphael and taking the book from him. And he did. Between he, Ragnor and Cat, they’ve mastered the basics of most of the languages in the world. When Raphael had joined their little group, only Cat had been passable at Spanish, with Magnus and Ragnor having already been fluent.

Before their eyes, the words shifted as soon as it was out of Raphael’s hands. Magnus carefully settled it back into Raphael’s waiting palms as Catarina joined them.

Just like that, the words cleared and settled into Ragnor’s neat script, penned in the language of Raphael’s native tongue.

“Oh he always did love you best, didn’t he, Raphael?” Magnus murmured, leaning against the vampire to press his cheek on Raphael’s shoulder.

“He probably thought you would abuse whatever information we find here,” snarked Raphael, though he rubbed the side of his cheek against Magnus hair in a comforting gesture. There was a warmth in his stomach at the blatant showcase of how much Ragnor had valued him as a part of their group. The book may have been keyed to be found by Catarina or Magnus, but it could only be read with Raphael.

“Well, let’s get to work, then.”

* * *

That evening, as Magnus and Alec returned to the loft, it was with the knowledge that Alec was that much closer to returning to his dimension. There weren’t any clues as to Ragnor’s whereabouts in the journal, but Raphael, Cat, and Magnus had spent the entire day translating the titles of items there, and found the necessary spell and potions to send him back.

They enjoyed dinner on the roof, trading stories Mags had shared with Alec of his adventures and Magnus’ own similar stories. It awed them both that in the centuries under both iterations of Magnuses, there were plenty of similarities that led to such different outputs.

No information about Alec’s relationship with Mags was shared, nor any story about his family or history. It was as if an unspoken agreement had been struck since their heart-to-heart the night before. Unless Alec felt the need to unload, or particular information was necessary, Magnus wouldn’t hear of anything that could even be remotely relevant to only Alec or Mags and Alec’s relationship.

They’d both accepted that perhaps it would do more harm than good to discuss more personal information. So Alec did his part and shared his memory of Mags’ retelling of the Great War that had resulted in the expulsion of all demons from his dimension. When Alec had offered to share more memories, Magnus had been the one to decline.

He was beginning to make peace with the fact that he and Alexander were perhaps just different enough from Alec and Mags to not be afforded their seemingly perfect relationship.

And that was okay.

It had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I severely underestimated the amount of stuff I had to work on/finish IRL. Thank you to those continuing to read and comment!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the Lightwood sibling and parabatai feels! We aren't out of angst yet, but...we still have a bit to go anyways. 😂
> 
> 💚


	8. Day Four: The Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, but also, Malec interaction!

**MAGNUS**

Running on three hours of sleep, Magnus blinked blearily at Alec, who was humming to himself as he flipped pancakes in his kitchen. He cradled the coffee he had summoned as soon as he woke up close to his chest.

“I see you’re in high spirits this morning.”

Alec shrugged, throwing one of the dish towels carelessly over his shoulder. “We’ve figured out how I’m gonna head back, you’re taking me to your club tonight, and I found blueberries in your fridge!”

Magnus raised a brow at Alec’s use of _‘we’_ , but kept his mouth shut. There was no need to rain on the mundane’s parade. After the past couple of days, they could both do with a good day.

“You didn’t get much sleep at all, did you?”

He hummed his assent, setting the table with a snap of his fingers, much to Alec’s chagrin. “Relax, _baby_.” His lips quirked in an amused smile. “Only double checked that I had the ingredients needed for the potion you’d need to consume to send you back.” Magnus briefly debated expounding, but figured there was no need to hide information relevant to Alec’s return home. “I told you I had to reach out a bit to some old contacts for some of them, but that the one I’m most concerned about is that I’d need blood from your counterpart here.”

“Has anything changed?” Alec set their plates down. “You didn’t seem too concerned last night.”

“One of my contacts refuses to give me some bark from a cedar tree in the Seelie Realm without my going there to collect it myself.” Magnus sighed. Really, even a few weeks ago, he wouldn’t be dragging his feet on the matter.

“Oh, I think Mags said something about Seelies being tricky to deal with.” Alec wondered aloud as he added some cream and sugar into his coffee. “Will you be okay? Maybe you can bring Isabelle with you.”

Warmth spread in Magnus’ chest at the concern Alec showed unabashedly, though it was corded with the jealousy of knowing that it wasn’t a concern truly for himself. As lovely a guest Alec had been, Magnus knew that he was looking forward to getting back to his dimension as soon as possible.

Not that Magnus could blame him, of course. But still, the warlock savored what time he had with Alec left.

“I will be fine. My… _contact_ there, tends to want to have fun in exchange for any sort of help.”

Tension bled into Alec’s posture, though the man didn’t let any of it bleed into his words, “Fun…as in…?”

Magnus found it rather endearing that even if he weren’t Mags, this Alec seemed keen to protect him. “Riddles, pranks, gossiping, sex…varies with their mood, really.”

Alec met his gaze, lips pursed. “And you’ll be okay going by yourself?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before.” Magnus shrugged, “Besides, I have a feeling they would be more interested in gossip than anything else. After Meliorn and Isabelle’s trials, the seelies probably aren’t looking too fondly at shadowhunters.” He winced, “My concern right now actually has more to do with your little outing to Pandemonium later.”

He frowned.

“Some of my contacts have made the connection that my being absent from Pandemonium and then my requests for seemingly random ingredients might mean there’s something big _brewing,_ so to speak. If I were to turn up with you and two shadowhunters, well, it wouldn’t exactly help keep your presence or my involvement a secret.”

“That’s a good point. Maybe we can put a wig on me or something.” Alec offered more ideas between chewing, including makeup, new clothes, and even the possibility of him going in drag.

“I could always just put a glamour on you,” offered Magnus with a smile. “No need for mundane wigs, and a lot more versatile too. Or perhaps Isabelle would have other ideas.”

‘Yeah, maybe there’s a beauty rune or something.” Alec snorted, then let out a slow breath. “Mind if I come back earlier though? I agreed to meet with Lydia for lunch, but I’d prefer to come back here after. I don’t…Ever since we looked at my memories, being too far from the loft has been uncomfortable.”

Magnus had a theory about it, of course, that his and Mags magic worked with his own wards in the apartment to ensure that Alec would always be welcome—that he would always be home. Only, he had a feeling it wasn’t exactly the loft that Alec sought and found comfort in.

He stretched his left leg out, the toe of his fuzzy slippers brushing against the inner arch of Alec’s right foot.

“As I’ve said before, you’re free to come and go as you please.” Magnus yawned. “Though I’ll be here all day after picking up the ingredient from the Seelie Realm to begin the _mise en place_ for the potion.”

Interest piqued, Alec’s eyes brightened as he smiled. “Can I help? Mags let me help from time to time, but mostly just for a hangover cure or some sleeping draught.”

If these bouts of jealousy was the price he had to pay to ensure that out there somewhere was a version of himself that got to receive the bright smile of an Alexander Lightwood he’d only glimpsed in his own dimension, then Magnus was willing to pay it a thousand times over. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. At least one of him deserved happiness, no?

“Oh, speaking of hangovers, is there any way we can make sure all I drink are non-alcoholic without my bodyguards knowing? I don’t want to accidentally reveal more info on my dimension than we agreed on, and…” Alec turned bashful. “I may or may not be a little loose-lipped when not entirely sober.”

“More than you already are?” Magnus teased, but he nodded in agreement right after. “I’ll make sure to be the one to supply everyone their drinks when needed so you wouldn’t have to think about it. I don’t exactly plan on drinking more than a few martinis myself.”

“Smart man,” Alec raised his mug to Magnus in acknowledgement.

“Considering your potion needs to simmer for twenty-three hours, I’d rather be in full control of my faculties, just in case.”

Alec beamed, though whether it was at the reminder that he would soon be able to go home or at his general mischief, Magnus wasn’t sure. “So does that I mean I get to be your cute little assistant in Potions, Professor Snape?”

“Are you saying your fiancé’s lookalike is the bat of the dungeons and has greasy hair?”

“You aren’t denying that I’m cute!”

“I am literally attracted to the version of you in this dimension,” Magnus shot him a dry look. “And you’re engaged to the me of your universe!”

* * *

To the surprise of both Magnus and Alec, it was Lydia that met them at the Institute’s doors.

“I have…” At this, even Lydia look pained. “Somewhat unpleasant news.”

Magnus floundered between staying and leaving, before eventually settling on the latter and waving a hand to say farewell.

“Actually, Warlock Bane—Sir—Mis _ter_ Bane?” A faint blush colored the blonde’s cheeks, much to Alec’s delight and Magnus’ confusion.

Oh, Alec was going to have fun with that. He’d only ever seen his Lydia stumble over her words when faced with people she greatly admired—which was to say the last time it had happened was when they had needed to organize an event for the campaign of a particular group of women Representatives. To see this version exhibit the same signs, _only to Magnus_ , made him absolutely giddy.

“We were actually hoping you would be able to stay a few more moments this morning? Jocelyn is currently required to stay within the Institute, but has requested to meet with you as soon as possible.”

“I actually have plans to gather ingredients for the ritual that would help return this one to his dimension.” Magnus replied. “However, it shouldn’t take me longer than…” He looked down at his wrist, though there was no watch, “An hour or so. Perhaps I could return then?”

“Yes, of course, that would be quite fine, thank you.”

“Alright, I shall leave our wayward little nephilim in your more than capable hands then, Miss Branwell.”

“Lydia, please,” she corrected with a smile.

The warlock placed a hand to his chest, returning the friendly gesture, “Magnus, then.”

“It’s good to be working with you this time round, Magnus.”

With a nod, and a quick, “ _Behave_ ,” to Alec, Magnus left.

Before the portal could fully close, Alec turned to Lydia, beaming.

 _“It’s good to be working with you this time round, Magnus,”_ mocked Alec in a high-pitched voice.

Lydia glared at him, though she looked more embarrassed than angry or annoyed.

“So is the real reason you came to pick me up because you wanted to hit on my dad?”

She shot him a look so reminiscent to his own Lydia’s that he full on laughed.

“Tough crowd,” Alec tugged at his ring absentmindedly as they entered the Institute.

Jace walked right up to them and manhandled Alec so that the taller man was hunched over with the blond’s arm slung around his shoulders. “Izzy says we have you to thank for our night out later!”

“I also told you to stop roping him into training with you.” Isabelle shoved Jace out of the way, cuddling right up to Alec, much to his amusement. He wrapped his arm securely around her, getting a kick out of Jace’s pout.

“Please do not break our guest,” Lydia admonished the pair. “And don’t make your brother and I regret agreeing to tonight.” She met Alec’s gaze then, brow raised, “See you for lunch? My office?”

“Will do, _mom_ ,” Alec replied with a wink.

Isabelle watched as Lydia simply shook her head and left. “I can’t believe she let you get away with that.”

“Get away with what?” His brows furrowed even as he briefly pulled Isabelle closer to him.

“She’s a Clave envoy—and she almost had me thrown to prison!—but you just…you joke around with her and talk to her as if—”

“She were a person?” Alec wondered, not unkindly, if perhaps because of the way they were raised, Isabelle couldn’t reconcile that outside of what they’ve seen of her, Lydia had an entire life before and away from the New York Institute. The thought came with the acknowledgement that he also probably felt more for Lydia because in his dimension, it had been them that were inseparable and an unbeatable team. The family issues had cracked the foundations of his relationship with his siblings, though they were much better now, but it had served to strengthen his relationship not just with Lydia, but the Montverdes as well.

“Soft spot for our resident slave driver aside, what do you want to do this morning? We bumped up training earlier so we could all just hangout without Jace treating you like you were his actual _parabatai_.”

Alec raised a brow at Jace, “Clary not available to keep you company?”

Jace opened his mouth, ready to be offended, but Isabelle beat him to it by tugging at Alec and leading him away. “Obviously!”

* * *

Magnus sent out three fire messages before leaving his apartment to return to the Institute. One he sent to Catarina, to inform her that he had managed to gather what ingredients he could, and that those assigned to her she can send directly to his apothecary. The other fire message he sent to Raphael, a more formal invite to join him at a later date in Pandemonium; with Camille gone, it was natural for Raphael to step up as the leader, but also for everyone else to take the chance to challenge him. It wouldn’t be too bad to show that Raphael would have Magnus’ favor as Clan Head. The final fire message was sent to Philippe, the warlock working as Pandemonium’s manager, to let him know that he would be arriving later with nephilim guests, and that the staff ought to be briefed, and that if they saw fit to make the event Shadow People-exclusive, then he would be alright with it as well.

The thought of Pandemonium reminded Magnus of his first ingredient-gathering adventure of the day.

Thankfully, all his seelie contact had wanted this time round was a VIP pass to Pandemonium. Well, in mundane terms, at least. In truth, to be a downworlder granted passage to the actual VIP section was to have a seat at Magnus’ table, so to speak. Oh, he held more formal public court in the open area, seated on a dias to be revered and called upon. However, there were also conversations and deals being made behind closed doors. And that was what his contact had wanted access to—no doubt with some encouragement from the Seelie Queen.

No matter. He would simply have to make sure that no crucial information were exchanged that could be used against those that are participating at whichever time they saw fit to join.

Walking right up to the steps of the Institute, he was surprised when it swung open to reveal the brunet shadowhunter who looked exactly like his current houseguest.

“Alec,” he offered as a greeting, tone somewhere between confused and friendly. Ever since he’d decided to let the entire notion of pursuing Alexander go, he found himself floundering. He wasn’t sure how to act that would be appropriate without being too cold or too different from how he had previously conducted himself. He and Alexander— _Alec_ —didn’t have the easy banter Alec— _Other Alec_ —always managed to rope him into.

“Magnus,” Alexander— _ALEC!_ —nodded. “Lydia isn’t available right now, but I can take you to Jocelyn.”

Magnus stepped inside when Alec shifted his stance. He tried not to notice how the shadowhunter hadn’t fully opened the door nor stepped further away than was strictly necessary. His elbow nearly grazed Alexander’s abdomen, but a quick side-step left a wider gap between them. He looked forward to sending Other Alec back to his dimension, suddenly feeling suffocated in New York. It would do him a world of good to step away.

The door shut behind them, and Alec—xander used one hand to gesture to the hall while the other hovered behind Magnus, wanting to touch but frozen.

“Lead the way,” the warlock said, moving forward. They walked side by side, and where Magnus would have made a pass at Alexander had it been any time prior, he stopped himself from doing so now. He had to accept how unwelcome it had been, and how uncomfortable it must have been for the closeted shadowhunter. An apology would need to be offered soon, he knew.

Alexander, however, didn’t seem willing to let them move in silence. “Would you happen to have any idea what Jocelyn wishes to speak to you about?”

Humming thoughtfully, Magnus pursed his lips. “I can’t say that I do. Perhaps she’d seek another chance to recover Clary’s memories?”

Magnus rubbed his thumb and forefinger together in front of him, a seemingly subconscious habit, and Alexander found himself entranced. The dark polish on the warlock’s nails was a deep blue that looked very close to black. There were only two rings on Magnus’ right hand today: the M and B rings on his forefinger and middle finger respectively. It glinted under the Institute’s fluorescent lights.

The entire thing transpired over the course of a second or two, and they were wrapped in silence that was neither suffocating nor awkward.

Neither made a move to fill it; one unsure of what to say, and the other unwilling to say more than necessary.

What else was there left to be said, after all?

Just as Alexander had talked himself into starting another conversation, they arrived at the conference room.

“Magnus,” he began, earning the warlock’s undivided attention. Standing between Magnus and the door as he were, Alexander would have to move a little closer to Magnus as he pulled the door open to let the man in.

Another smile was Magnus’ reply. He tilted his head to the side, waiting for Alexander to continue, and trying to ignore the way the nephilim’s gaze kept dropping to his lips. He let his own eyes drop, but to Alexander’s neck instead. The rune — _deflect_ , he’d learned a few days ago — was a reminder of who this Alexander _was not_.

And what he’d done—

What he’d chosen.

This was a soon-to-be-married man.

Just not to him.

Not to a Magnus Bane.

Never to a Magnus Bane.

Alexander seemed to regain his bearings then, saying, “Izzy and Jace will escort you and Other Alec tonight.”

Visibly brightening, Magnus’ eyes crinkled as his smile broadened. “Wonderful,” he said, and all Alexander could think about was how he wished to keep that expression on the man’s face.

For as beautiful as he already thought the warlock was, he was absolutely resplendent when he truly smiled. He wanted to reach out and touch ( _just once!_ ) Magnus. He wanted to know what it would feel like to cradle his face.

To brush his thumb against Magnus’ skin.

His lips.

By the Angel, he wanted to kiss him.

“Shall we?”

The question did well to snap his focus back, like the string of his bow after taking a shot. He forced his body to comply, as he’d done countless times before. With a twist of his wrist and a small step to the side that would have had him brushing against Magnus (if only the warlock hadn’t stepped away) as he opened the door.

A tight-lipped smile, and then Magnus was walking past him and into the room.

He wondered, not for the first time, if opening doors were all they would ever be able to do for the other.

“Magnus! Thank the Angel,” Jocelyn stepped right into Magnus’ space and wrapped her arms around him.

* * *

**ALEC**

Hours later, Alec sat on one end of the couch in Lydia’s office while she sat on the other. Lydia had given Alec the chance to order for them both, to see whether she had the same taste in food as his Lydia (which they discovered that she did). They traded stories between getting to know each other’s current situations, with Alec managing to poke fun at both how gone his Lydia and John were for each other, and this Lydia’s (admitted!) Harmless crush on Magnus Bane.

He had been in the middle of an anecdote involving himself and John when a knock on the door stole their attention.

Lydia shot him a quick look as they set down the container of food they were eating from. “Come in.”

“I was told I’d find my lovely house guest and the beautiful friend he’s made here.” Magnus and Isabelle shared a laugh at that as they stood in the doorway.

Alec did not miss a beat, beaming at Magnus. “Hi daddy, mom’s been keeping me company.”

“Alec!” Lydia admonished, and the three other occupants of the room was treated to the sight of the blonde blushing. “I’d apologize for his behavior, but I’d guess you’ve been treated to worse.”

Magnus seemed delighted. “And I would say he’s really great once you get to know him, but I’m not sure bratty is a good thing in this equation.”

The man in question gasped. “Hey, I resent that!”

With another shake of her head, Lydia gestured to the food before them, “Would the two of you like to join us?”

When they finished, Alec and Magnus bade Lydia farewell. Isabelle accompanied them on the way back to the loft, as Alec and Magnus had agreed upon earlier in the day. As soon as they arrived, however, Magnus retired to his apothecary with a small wave and a quick reminder to _behave_.

“How did your lunch yesterday go?” Isabelle asked, as she and Alec settled on Alec’s bed.

Alec shrugged, pulling his sister close. “It felt surreal talking to myself, but also, not really. I did most of the talking, anyways.”

“My brother isn’t exactly the sociable type,” Isabelle hummed.

“I think he just hasn’t found someone that suits his social meter.” He said, letting his eyes drift close. “Or maybe, he’s too used to being heard for his position, but not himself.”

Isabelle stiffened, but Alec didn’t react one way or the other. He understood Isabelle meant well where her brother was concerned, but Alec had also wondered if she had ever comprehended just how different Alec was when compared to even Jace or herself. All that expectation and indoctrination to what must have been an unforgiving conservative culture (which was ironic considering they were part Angel).

“We’re all just people trying to figure ourselves out, y’know?”

He felt her nod, the side of her face rubbing against his shoulder.

Following their afternoon nap, Isabelle watched as Alec followed each of Magnus’ poses with ease. When the sun began to set, Magnus had stepped out of his apothecary to find Alec and Isabelle watching Netflix in the living room and offered a few passing comments before stepping out on to the balcony to practice tai chi.

Alec had elected to join him, and though they’d offered, Isabelle had refused, taking the time instead to look through some reports on her phone and even begin some that she’d been putting off for a while. If she took a few sneaky pics and saved it for future use, well, that was neither here nor there. She couldn’t help but steal glances from time to time though, cataloging the way Magnus and Alec barely spoke a word to each other though there was no awkwardness or heat to their interaction.

It reminded her a lot of when Jace and her brother were still settling into their new _parabatai_ bond, really—the awareness of another person on an entirely different level. Only unlike with her brothers, Magnus and Alec were a lot more free with their thoughts and expressions, the easy banter from before not gone per se, but dulled down to light teasing that she would have mistaken for flirting if she wasn’t aware of just how devoted Alec was to Mags.

And how skittish Magnus was at any hint of a relationship.

Even she had seen how uncomfortable the entire exchange between Camille, Magnus, and her brother had been yesterday.

“You know, we still haven’t agreed on how to alter your appearance. There are some that would recognize you as the oldest Lightwood son—especially if you’ll be there with Isabelle and Jace.” Magnus stretched his hands over his head, feeling rather amused when he saw Isabelle give him a brief once over.

Alec threw the warlock’s discarded robe from earlier at him with a roll of his eyes. “Put a shirt on, Magnus, you are not seducing my sister in front of me.”

“No need to be jealous now,” chided Magnus as he shrugged the robe on but making no move to tie it. “Not as if you don’t have your own delectable warlock waiting for you.”

“And here I thought I was the one with far too much confidence.”

“You saying you don’t think I’m just as handsome as Mags?”

“I’m saying I miss Mags’ humility right about now.”

Isabelle looked between the two of them, smiling, and when they burst into laughter, she was more grateful for the trust in letting her see this dynamic of theirs. She knew they kept more formal appearances for her brother’s (and by extension the Lightwoods) reputation, and while she’d seen more than her other fellow shadowhunters where the true depth of Other Alec, she knew that the mundane only ever felt at ease with Magnus. Even without having born witness to his breakdown the other night, she would have known it.

“Back to Magnus’ point though,” she said as she eyed Alec’s hair. He’d opted to go for his usual slicked back and styled look as opposed to her brother’s more casual (read: unkempt) hair. “Even if you dress as far from the way my brother would, the two of you look exactly the same. It would be hard not to make at least a connection.”

“It would be easy enough to glamour him.” Magnus said with a wave of his fingers as he walked away from them, heading to his apothecary to check on the potion. “I’m sure I could come up with a look that would be subtle enough that it’s easy to sustain throughout the night.”

“Maybe you can glamour me to look like you?” Alec’s grin gave both Isabelle and Magnus pause, with the latter turning back around and raising a brow at Alec.

“I am not changing you to look like me just so you can feed whatever fetish you have about Mags.”

“There is no _weird fetish_!”

“I never said anything about the fetish being weird,” pointed Magnus out with a smirk, making Isabelle laugh.

Alec huffed, pouting at the pair. “Then what am I supposed to look like?”

Magnus snapped his fingers, “How about you and Isabelle head to my closet and pick an outfit you’d like to wear and we could just,” he waved his fingers. “Edit accordingly.”

Identical looks of excitement show on Isabelle and Alec’s faces. Magnus would have joined them if he weren’t in the middle of prep work for the potion. Alec shot him a grin, and Magnus knew he was about to say something that Alexander would have absolutely hated.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been this excited to get back in the closet, but hey, at least it’s a walk-in!”

Isabelle’s laughter echoed in the room as Alec tugged her in the direction of Magnus’ room. He’d ensured all his valuables were stored away and his bed was made, of course, but it still felt unreal that he was willingly letting shadowhunters (well a shadowhunter and a mundane-raised nephilim) into his bedroom.

“This is probably far from what you’d imagined when you thought of bringing our worlds together, Old Friend.” Magnus wished he could conjure some alcohol from himself, but the spell to send Alec back required the blood of the warlock casting it, and warlocks knew any blood used for a spell was more effective untainted—which was to say that they were as close to their base as can be.

A sigh at the missed opportunity for a drink, then Magnus was heading back to his apothecary. He’ll have a glass or two at Pandemonium, he promised himself with a shake of his head.

* * *

**ALEXANDER**

“A Herondale” Jace repeated for the umpteenth time. “I’m an actual Herondale, Alec!”

Knowing his _parabatai_ was saying it more to get used to the idea than to ask for any actual input, Alexander kept his mouth shut. They stood at before the double doors of Magnus’ penthouse, with Alexander poised to knock, only to stop when one of the doors opened.

Isabelle blinked up at them, clad in a deep plum dress that showed more than it hid, and heels he knew most had trouble walking in, let alone fighting in. Her hair was down and curled, and her lips were painted to match her dress.

“ _Hermano_?”

Jace let himself in without another thought, clapping Alexander on the back as he did so. “Honestly not sure if we’re being babysat or Alec’s taking this as his version of a Bachelor’s Party, but here he is! Now, where’s my protégé?”

He closed the door as they all wandered into the apartment. Isabelle poured them all some shots. _Pregaming,_ Alexander remembered it was called.

“I left him in Magnus’ room to get changed,” she said, then remembered that Alec had actually stepped out to help Magnus with some potion as well. “They should be done in a bit.”

The _parabatai_ pair seemed to freeze at her words, and her brother especially looked to the hall that led to the bedrooms. As if on cue, before she could clarify her easily misunderstood words, Alec and Magnus stepped out of one of the rooms, both looking ready for a night out— _together_. A shiver ran down Alexander’s spine, and from the tension that lined Jace’s shoulders, it seemed strong enough to have seeped through their bond despite his efforts to hide it.

Alexander gritted his teeth, trying and barely succeeding to swallow down the frustration and jealousy that clawed his middle.

It seemed that shades of blues were the preferred palette for the pair, with Magnus in darker shades accented by the streaks in his spiked hair. His silver eyeliner matched well with the winged earcuff and various necklaces and rings he wore, and even his cheeks and nose seemed to sparkle. And his lips…

Alexander had to remember he wasn’t even supposed to be noticing these things.

“What do you think?” Alec took Isabelle’s hands in his and spun her around before stepping back and doing a slow spin of his own.

He wore lighter (or perhaps brighter) shades of blue. Eyeliner was his only makeup; a bold streak of blue that matched that of Magnus’ jacket—and Alexander hated that he even noticed it. His hair was unlike his usual styled coif, though it looked longer than it had been just yesterday. And though Alexander logged all these details in, it wasn’t exactly the clothes that caught his attention the most.

No, what caught his eye the most was the wrinkles in the corner of Magnus’ eyes as he smiled while watching Alec. Those were lines that told him more than he could have ever gathered from the conversations he’s had with Magnus.

It told him how often the warlock laughed, that even his immortality couldn’t fight against those smile lines. It told him of the joy he must have experienced, and the fact that he could see them now, let Alexander in on the fondness Magnus was feeling.

Those lines framed the chocolate eyes that have been haunting him since they’d been introduced, and Alexander…

Alexander was lost.

Like he always felt when faced with the magical man.

What had he done, exactly, that the Angels saw fit to deliver this man to Alexander (looking every bit someone he had never thought he could desire, let alone meet or have) and have him shower Alexander with attention and the possibility of— _something_?

“Alright, so I made minor adjustments—which is to say, I put a glamour on you that shortened you a bit and altered your eye color and hair length as well as made you a lot less noticeable in general.”

The shadowhunters took in the said changes, and were surprised by the glaring differences. Gone were the near identical pair of Alexander Lightwoods from that morning. Alec’s hair was sleek, styled, and shades lighter than Alexander's. He stood closer to Magnus’ height, and when he returned to Magnus’ side to offer him a shot that Isabelle had passed around, Alexander noticed the brief brush of the fingers. Raising a brow at the rest of them, they realized that he no longer had the same hazel eyes Isabelle had always complimented her brother on. Instead, light blue eyes met their gazes, cool and calculating.

Alec grinned, keeping eyes locked on Alexander’s. “To us.”

And Alexander turned abruptly to Magnus, and felt somewhat relieved when the warlock seemed to be just as surprised as he felt. That relief was doused by cold dread when Magnus glanced over at Alec, and Alexander watched as they shared a look, then smirked before taking the shot.

More pleasantries and excitement were exchanged, but Alexander drowned all of it out as he zeroed in on Magnus, who seemed content to let Jace, Alec, and Isabelle talk each other’s ears off. The little incident seemed to have been noticeable only to him, and he wondered once again what else Alec and Magnus could have shared without any bodyguard around.

“I hope you don’t mind me tagging along.” He kept his hands behind himself, feeling the draw of being in Magnus’ presence making him want to stand closer.

“Of course not,” Magnus inclined his head to the rest of the group. “I hope you don’t mind that babysitting seems to have taken over your Bachelor Party.”

“Not a Bachelor Party,” he groused, much to Magnus’ amusement.

“Either way, you’re joining us and I only hope you find the entire thing at least somewhat relaxing.” Magnus created a portal and waved his guests through, raising a brow when Alexander seemed to linger.

 _Looks like we’ll get to have those drinks after all_ , was on the tip of his tongue. He wanted this, had come up with a half-ass excuse to Lydia about keeping an eye on Alec to be able to join his siblings on this assignment, even. He’d manipulated circumstances to be there.

With Magnus.

A small hum, “Coming?”

But before he could reply, Magnus’ phone rang. The warlock gestured to the portal once again as he answered the call, and Alexander nodded and stepped through.

Greeted by the loud heart-thumping music and strobing lights, Alexander already felt way out of his element. Magnus had directed the portal to send them to Pandemonium’s VIP Lounge, which was basically the mezzanine level of the club.

He turned to Magnus, seeing that Isabelle, Jace, and Alec were leaning over the rails and looking out at the crowd, only to find that the warlock’s attention had already been commandeered by a man in a white shirt and purple pants.

About an hour later, Magnus sidled up next to Alexander, “Now I know you take your bodyguard duties seriously, but there’s room for a little fun while on call, no?”

He was leaning on his elbows over the bannister, hands clasped together in front of him. It was the most relaxed posture he could take on, while he was tracking his sister’s and Other Alec’s movement. Clary had come to join them, having been sent away by her mother, who had been dealing with a supposedly irate Maryse Lightwood back at the Institute.

A small shrug was the only reply, and Magnus tapped his rings against the rail absentmindedly.

“Considering your general dislike for the scene, and assuming you trust your siblings to do their jobs, would you like to join me in my office? I have paperwork to attend to, but you can…” Magnus made a small noise of confusion, “Sit and sharpen your arrows? Honestly, what do shadowhunters do when they’re on break?”

“Am I supposed to correct you and say they’re your arrows?” Alexander replied with a grin.

“No~,” said Magnus, elongated the word. “You’re supposed to tell me if I’m supposed to summon some book for you to read while on my office couch or you’re going to pull out a sword and a whetstone in the middle of my club.” He pushed himself off the edge and walked away, with Alexander following him without a second thought.

Surprisingly, Magnus actually did have paperwork to do. Though Alexander shouldn’t have been. Magnus was running a legitimate business. He settled down on the long couch closer to the door, which was left ajar so that they could still easily hear what was happening in the club.

Conversation between them seemed to be confined to sets of one initiating conversation, the other replying, then a quick one-liner that halted further conversation because it opened a path that Magnus felt ought to have closed. It was when he was done signing necessary documents and looking through the papers for other businesses he had that Magnus figured he finally address the little niggling thought in the back of his head.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” Magnus spoke softly, a stark contrast to the booming bass being blasted in the club as well as to the flashy outfit he’d donned for the night.

Alexander could feel the erratic way his heart beat in his chest at the opening line. His breath had left him hours ago, when he’d first seen Magnus emerge from his room with Alec. Even now, Magnus looked magnificent; considering the dim light provided by the sconces in his office—or perhaps because of it. The soft warm glow made his skin look golden, accentuated even more by the makeup he wore. His lips, Alexander lamented once again. They shone with both lipgloss and hydration, and all he could think about was how their drink would taste from Magnus’ lips.

How would Magnus taste?

Unaware of Alexander’s inner turmoil, Magnus shifted his weight from one foot to the other before turning fully to face him. With a minute change of his stance, the High Warlock of Brooklyn seemed to melt away with Magnus Bane, leaving only Magnus in his place. To Alexander, if power and poise could have been personified, then it would have taken the form of Magnus Bane. And if his sister, _parabatai,_ and younger brother were warmth and comfort. Magnus was heat, hearth, and—

“I wanted to apologize,” the warlock’s fingers caressed the wing tips of the cuff on his ear. “I had no right to demand you act a certain way, despite any good intention I may have had. I should have respected the boundaries you’d set when you told me to back off. I wasn’t in any place to push—not for you to come out nor for you to go against your own principles. For all my centuries alive, I am still continuing to learn respect and humility.”

He leaned back on his desk, half-perching on it, and Alexander honed in on the flex of his arms when he crossed them. The slight discoloration on the tips of his fingers as he pressed them heavily against the wood told Alexander of the pressure he was exerting on the table. He knew it must have been a means of curbing whatever hand gesture or habit he had.

“But not to worry,” at this Magnus smiled, “Once Alec returns to his dimension, you’ll be pleased to know that I wouldn’t be much trouble to you for the foreseeable future.”

“What?”

Magnus visibly brightened, a stark contrast to the way Alexander’s heart plummeted. “Oh, yes, I have found a spell to help expedite and facilitate Alec’s return. There’s a potion I still need to brew for it, but I’m almost a hundred percent positive that I can have everything ready before the end of the week.” Magnus raised his glass. “Perhaps getting him and myself out of your hair could be my gift to the newlyweds.”

But the shadowhunter was far from delighted. He wasn’t even relieved. “Where are you going?” It was a little more forceful than he’d intended, but it was what he wanted to know nonetheless.

Magnus cocked his head, “Pardon?”

“You’re leaving?” Alexander didn’t get it. Why would Magnus leave? And yet, wasn’t that what he’d been hoping for from the very start? He shifted his stance to account for the sudden restlessness that had crept upon him. What was he doing? Why was he questioning this?

“Ah, for a little bit, yes. My presence has been requested elsewhere,” Magnus offered no other explanation. The Spiral Labyrinth was not beholden to the Clave, after all. And the entirety of his excursion would be known only to the few that would be a part of it anyways. He regarded the shadowhunter before him with concern and confusion.

“But you’re the High Warlock of Brooklyn,” pointed Alexander out.

“I’m aware, yes,” agreed Magnus. Where was he going with his line of questioning?

The door swung open abruptly, startling them and revealing a giggling Clary in Jace’s arms, and behind them, Alec and Isabelle were laughing.

“Oh are we interrupting something?” Clary asked as Jace maneuvered her to one of the vacant seats. She settled in with a sigh, leaning into Jace, who sat on the chair’s arm.

It was only then that Magnus and Alexander realized their positions and how it must have looked to the others. The latter had advanced towards Magnus throughout their conversation, and with the faux blasé pose Magnus had adapted, leaning as he was against his desk, with his legs somewhat splayed out. Alexander blocked most of Magnus from view of the door, and having never let their attention waver from the other, Magnus had to tilt his head up as Alexander seemed to loom over him.

A few days earlier and Magnus might have made a risqué joke or a flirty comment.

No more, though.

He held his tongue, leaning to the right and peeking around Alexander’s intimidating form.

A few days earlier, Alexander would have jumped up and away from Magnus, annoyed and flattered in equal parts by whatever comment Magnus would have made.

He shifted his stance to stay within Magnus’ line of sight, and tried not to think how he wished Magnus _had_.

“What’s this little party?” Alec stumbled in with Isabelle under his arm, though she separated from him to occupy the seat behind Magnus’ desk. He turned bright blue eyes on Magnus and pouted. “Magnus you promised to dance with meeee~!”

Magnus sighed, but his smile betrayed his amusement. “Well come on then, _kitten_.” He walked right to the door, giving Alexander a wide berth.

“Is this the part where I call you _Master_?”

The array of muttered, _“By the Angel”s_ and _“Oh my god,”_ had Alec laughing as he turned and left, with Magnus following behind him. Alexander quite literally bit his tongue to stop from calling out to Magnus and demanding he stay.

Overall, the night had progressed and ended without a hitch.

Alec had played up his supposed drunkenness, engaging Magnus in banter and flirtation, dancing with Isabelle, egging Jace and Clary on, and even imposing himself upon Alexander. It was a little past one in the morning when they returned to the loft.

Everyone was in mostly high spirits, with Magnus especially feeling much better than he had earlier in the day.

Magnus’ wards told him Raphael was at the door. He met Alec’s sharp gaze and knew that he felt it too. Knowing it wouldn’t do to have Raphael in a room full of the same shadowhunters who’d let Camille go, Magnus clapped his hands together to gain their attention.

“Seems as if I have a friend coming to visit me,” he snapped his fingers. “Might I ask you all to stay in Alec’s room? There’s a mini fridge full of other drinks in there now, and I’ll let you all know when it’s alright to come back out if you aren’t already asleep by then.”

“Alright, Magnus,” Alec stood right up and left, dragging a half-asleep Clary with Jace. “Can they all stay the night?”

“Sure thing, would you like me to add another bed or just expand yours?”

He raised a finger at Alec, knowing a quick one-liner was probably already on the tip of the mundane’s tongue. The impish grin that curved Alec’s lips more than confirmed it.

“I think we’ll manage to squeeze in together,” Isabelle said, placing a hand on Magnus’ shoulder and squeezing. “Thank you, Magnus.”

“I better go.” Alexander said, as he watched his _parabatai_ leave down the hall with Alec and Clary. “I’ll take over guard duty tomorrow anyways.”

Isabelle didn’t bother with subtlety as she looked between her brother and her new friend. She bit her tongue, but leaned up and pressed a kiss to Magnus’ cheek and then stepped into her brother’s personal space to envelope him in a quick hug and to press a kiss to his cheek as well. Bidding them good night, she followed the others to Alec’s room.

“A portal to the Institute?” Magnus offered Alexander just as the door opened.

“You have a guest.”

“How astute.” Magnus narrowed his eyes at Raphael, but gave a quick hand signal to ask him to wait. “Raphael, this is Alec Lightwood, the future Head of the New York Institute.”

Raphael walked right up to the much taller man and offered his hand.

“Mr. Lightwood, this is Raphael Santiago—”

Alexander took Raphael’s hand in a firm shake, and Raphael cut Magnus off with: “Head of the New York Vampire Clan.”

“Good to meet you, Mr. Santiago.”

“Likewise, Mr. Lightwood.” It’s when they drew apart that Raphael came to stand by Magnus and arched a brow, “Though I admit it surprising to find you here at this time.”

“Mr. Lightwood came by after patrol, personally asking me to ensure that the wards at the Institute are strong and would protect his people during his wedding.” Magnus then turned to address Alexander, “A portal to the Institute then, Mr. Lightwood?”

“I’m okay to walk,” the nephilim replied.

“I insist,” Magnus countered, already conjuring a portal.

Alexander hated the curl of childish possessiveness that made his eye twitch. Standing as they were, with Raphael by Magnus’ side and himself by a portal, he couldn’t help but recall the last time Magnus had sent him off the same way. It had been just the other day, hadn’t it? They’d captured Circle members and—

“Actually, I don’t think we’re done talking.” He found himself saying, much to the pair of downworlder’s surprise. Behind him, the portal disappeared.

The image of Camille and Magnus kissing was made more unwelcome by the sight of Raphael leaning into Magnus’ personal space. In the silence of the loft, enhanced hearing was unnecessary to decipher what Raphael whispered to Magnus.

“Shall I wait in a different room?”

Magnus tore his attention from him and inclined his head towards Raphael, and Alexander watched as an unfamiliar expression settled on Magnus’ features. “Business, or…?”

 _Pleasure_ , Alexander finished in his head, already regretting having overstayed his welcome. He wasn’t even supposed to be here—not at Pandemonium; not in the apartment; _not with Magnus Bane_.

“Both, I suppose.”

Something in Alec shattered at the thought of others having even a fraction of the attention and interest Magnus had so briefly and zealously bestowed upon him. This was nothing on the irritation he hadn’t felt at Camille and Magnus’ kiss. That, at least, had been obviously one-sided and meant to provoke a reaction. But this—

Did it hurt more because Raphael was a man too? Or that they so blatantly disregarded his presence in favor of each other—that _Magnus could so easily have forgotten Alexander—_

“Pick a room, then.” Alexander heard Magnus reply with a shrug, only then realizing his focus had shifted to the way Magnus’ Adam’s apple bobbed with every word. “Just not my apothecary.”

Feeling a little off-kilter, Magnus missed the quick narrowing of Raphael’s eyes before the vampire stepped away. He turned back to Alexander, ready to inquire about what the nephilim possibly thought they had to talk about.

And because Raphael is as petulant as Magnus was petty when the mood struck, the vampire didn’t bat an eye as he agreed, “I’ll be in your room, then.” He nodded at Alexander, “Mr. Lightwood,” then left in the direction of Magnus’ bedroom.

“I hope he doesn’t take it against you,” Alexander— _Alec_ mused, looking at the hallway Raphael had gone.

Magnus pursed his lips then pressed them together. “Was there anything you needed, Alec?”

 _Alexander_ , Alec wanted to correct him. Never before had he loved-and-loathed the sound of his full first name than whenever it left Magnus’ lips. He hated no longer hearing it. Even more, he hated that he can’t even appreciate the sound of his nickname because he shared it with the mundane that lived with Magnus. How did Magnus differentiate between them? Who was Alec and Other Alec in the warlock’s mind?

Did Magnus care to differentiate?

Was there any difference at all?

“You’re leaving?”

“I was of the belief that it was you that was on his way home,” Magnus’ voice was even, but all Alec could think about was how it lacked emotion.

“No,” he shook his head. “Earlier, you said, after the—” _wedding_ , he found himself unable to say, “You’re going away?”

“Ah,” Magnus didn’t know whether the shadowhunter realized it or not, but the distance between them seemed to be shrinking, and Magnus rectified it with a few strides towards the balcony. Some air ought to do them some good. “I have to address some matters I have put on hold in favor of helping facilitate the return of Alec to his dimension.”

Alec came to stand by his side, though his entire body faced Magnus instead of the city.

If he were the type to blush, he’d be red as a tomato, Magnus couldn’t help but think, feeling warmth pool in his cheeks and stomach at the intensity with which the tall shadowhunter seemed to watch him. He refused to look back, finding their position far too similar to his and Other Alec’s the night before.

Had it really been only a little over twenty-four hours since?

Alec couldn’t find it in himself to look away. This was nothing compared to the stolen moments he’d watched Jace, or even the brief heat that tore through him when he saw someone he found attractive. No, he’d never quite looked at anyone as if he wanted to retain every little detail about them in his mind.

His gaze trailed from the perfectly coiffed dark locks, to the furrowed brow; down the closed eyes and glistening cheek; past glossed lips and prominent Adam’s apple…A hand rose to his hair, but he seemed to rethink the action and closed his hand into a fist and let it drop back to the rail. His thumb rubbed against the side of his forefingers, and all Alec could process was how that hand had felt when he’d last held it.

“Not to worry,” Magnus added, misunderstanding Alec’s silence as an inquiry for more information. “I’ll formally inform Lydia and yourself of my absence closer to my departure. I’ll also leave a list of warlocks you may call on should you have need for one. I’m sure you can find one on file, but call it a sign of good will that I offer people I know would do well and charge fairly—which is to say, they won’t be quite as hard to handle as I am.” He startled and opened his eyes when a hand covered his, and it was only then that he realized he’d closed them at all.

Everything Magnus was saying sounded reasonable, and it was certainly more than the Clave (and therefore the Institute) actually deserved, but everything also seemed off. The tone wasn’t right. It sounded too cold. _Professional_.

And wasn’t it ironic that after having accused Magnus’ of playing games and never taking anything seriously, he now desperately wished to have that back?

His skin tingled where skin met skin, and even the cold metal of Magnus’ ring couldn’t chase away the all-consuming warmth he felt at being allowed even such a simple unprovoked contact.

“Alexander,” Magnus exhaled his name like an apology; as if his name alone could convey the same thoughts the warlock had earlier expressed. Loved-and-loathed, indeed.

His hand remained over Magnus’ closed fist, “You’ll come back?”

Magnus wondered if perhaps this was karma for the life he had lived thus far. Did it matter whether he did? Whether he left and returned after a day or a week, it wouldn’t change that he would return to a New York where Alexander Lightwood would be a married man. Maybe even both Alexander Lightwoods would be married, really.

His smile is tight-lipped, but his tone is teasing, “I’m the High Warlock of Brooklyn. It’s within the job description to come back.”

 _To me_ , Alec wanted to clarify, but knew he ~~shouldn’t—can’t—~~ _had no right to._

Wanting the entire ordeal to end, knowing Raphael was in his room waiting for him, Magnus steeled himself and drew on all his bravado as Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He looked up at the shadowhunter (because really, he had to, _the boy was so tall_ ) and didn’t bother to hide his confusion despite his internal arrangement to conduct the rest of this encounter more formally.

“You said—” Alec didn’t continue, but he does squeeze Magnus’ hand briefly. _“I will not ask again.”_

“I’m afraid I say a lot of things,” Magnus laughed; light and fake. “What in particular would you be talking about?”

More crossed Alec’s mind then.

_“Where’s the honor in living a lie?”_

_“Even shadowhunters fall in love.”_

_“I know you feel what I feel.”_

_“I will not ask again.”_

“You didn’t have to apologize,” Alec said instead. “There wasn’t—you didn’t— _nothing even happened._ ” And really, Alec wasn’t sure if he was disappointed, relieved, or simply pointing out a fact. Nothing truly inappropriate had happened between them, after all.

“Well, yes,” Magnus nodded. “But that doesn’t make what I did — _how I hounded you_ — right. As I’ve also said, it won’t happen again.” He rolled his eyes, though his smile is more a smirk and somewhat bittersweet, “For all my hedonism, I wouldn’t pursue someone already in a relationship. And as we’ve already established, you’re getting married.”

He couldn’t even suppress the shudder that ran down his back at Magnus having pointed it out. Yes, he was going to get married. He’d been the one to propose. He’d been the one to constantly remind Magnus of it.

“Now I’d hate to seem rude, but considering the time, I really ought to see what’s brought Raphael all the way here.”

“Am I so easily discarded?”

Magnus stiffened.

They both did.

Alec hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but there it was.

“Alexander,” Magnus breathed again, and this time Alec doesn’t stop his impulse to lean right into Magnus. Though caught off guard, Magnus adjusted to let Alec curl around and almost over him. Was that an Alec Lightwood thing? Did he have some sort of sign on him that told the Alec Lightwoods of the world to throw themselves at him and just… _unload_?

Unlike with Mundane Alec though, Magnus didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his shadowhunter— _this shadowhunter_.

“No one is discarding you, Alec.” One hand rubbed Alexander’s back while the other remained on the bannister, clenched as it was. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but trust me when I say no one is discarding—or _replacing_ —you. Simply, no one could ever be you, Alexander.”

Alec pressed his forehead to the side of Magnus’ neck, arms wrapping around Magnus’ waist. His fists clenched at the fabric of Magnus’ shirt, having snuck under the latter’s vest. He was neither heaving nor sobbing, but he could feel himself trembling, especially compared to the stability Magnus offered.

Magnus continued talking, hoping to soothe his troubled angel. “I understand that perhaps there is a lot happening right now, and that between redeeming your honor in the Clave and the threat of the Circle, you might find it difficult to figure out where or how to stand. But I promise you, none of the people that matter—those that truly care for you— would ever willingly place you in the position you’re in right now.”

And wasn’t that a dizzying thought? Barely a word from Alec and Magnus was able to pin a big part of Alec’s dilemma. He’d felt backed in a corner all his life, constantly stuck between a rock and hard place, and only ever able to catch a break when his siblings managed to pull him out of his own head.

“The Clave doesn’t get to determine your worth as a person, no matter how they try. They can play judge and jury all they want, but your worth is more than your blood or ability to follow a chain of command.”

“And you?” Alec couldn’t help himself from asking, closing his eyes and realigning their feet so that one foot was in the middle of both of Magnus’. _How do you judge me?_

The warlock hummed thoughtfully, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, swaying. “I don’t get to determine your worth either. Nor do I get to demand anything from your life.” How far this was from the conversation he had thought they were going to have. “You are a good man, Alexander. You would do everything for your loved ones, even tolerate a stubborn little redhead who thinks she knows everything about a world she’s only beginning to understand.” That got him a small huff from his Alec, and Magnus shivered when Alec’s breath caressed his skin.

Alec pulled away slowly, moving as if his own body protested every action. His face was set in a frown, and his hands gripped the lapels of Magnus’ vest. “I pushed you away.” He closed his eyes, reliving the easy banter between Magnus and Other Alec when he’d met them at the front of the Institute. “I threw your attraction to me in your face, misjudged you as—”

“Please,” it was Magnus’ turn to hold Alec’s hands then, each hand closing over either of Alec’s. “I’ve dealt with worse,” and before he could interrupt, Magnus rushed to continue: “And I really was out of line practically demanding you date me. Besides, at least we know now that there is a dimension out there where a Magnus Bane and an Alec Lightwood manage to make things work, right?”

“Right.” Alec inhaled slowly, and then in a softer voice, he said, “Magnus, do you think..? Would the Clave ever..?”

Brown met hazel, and Magnus ached for the boy forced to grow up much faster than anyone ought to have; for the young man shouldering the heavy burden that was a notable family name; for the man who may never love a woman, but would marry one anyway.

“Don’t—I—I should go.” Alec said, though he made no move to let go of Magnus’ clothes— _of Magnus_. He couldn’t bring himself to step away. Faced with the possibility of Magnus moving on (Raphael was still in the apartment— _in Magnus’ room!_ ) or leaving ( _“A gift to the newlyweds.”_ ), all Alec could think was that this moment could be their last moment together.

They’d barely had any moment together at all.

His eyes were drawn once again to Magnus’ lips, and it felt like a punch to the gut when Magnus spoke.

“Perhaps it’s best you stay the night and join the others,” with a final squeeze of his hands and a quick, soothing motion of Magnus’ hands against the leather covering Alec’s forearms, Magnus let go.

“No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Because Alec knew he wouldn’t be able to think of anything but Magnus in his room _with Raphael_. “Would that offer of a portal still be available?”

“Of course.” A snap and a portal came to life behind Alec.

Magnus’ eyes widened when Alec stepped closer to him, but sighed in relief when Alec said, “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary,” he assured Alec. They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer,and Magnus wondered if perhaps he ought to have said something else, then Alec turned to leave.

He didn’t let his mind dwell any further on the confusing turn of events, knowing he had a newly-minted Clan Head in his room to talk to.

“Congratulations are in order?”

Raphael looked up from the photo of Ragnor, himself, Magnus, and Catarina on Magnus’ vanity. He’d taken off his coat and draped it on the arm of the vanity chair, looking the most casual he’d show himself in public.

He watched Magnus’ reflection in the mirror, saw the restlessness that translated to constant movement; tugging at his sleeves and folding them to his elbows, rubbing fingertips together, eyes moving from one point to the other.

“Your shadowhunter gone?” Raphael asked in lieu of a reply.

“One, not my shadowhunter.” Magnus rolled his eyes. “Two, you and I both know you’re aware of just how many people are actually in my loft right now.”

Dark eyes took in every minutia of Magnus’ actions. “Warded?”

Magnus bristled. “Of course.”

“Will you be taking the offer?”

The abrupt change in topic made Magnus’ head spin. “How did you hear about that?”

“Warlocks talk. Especially when Magnus Bane hasn’t held court as often or as regularly as he used to. Before and after Camille’s unfortunate escape, I’ve been a part of your world long enough to have contacts of my own.” And Raphael knew he had no need to explain it. Magnus came clean to him and Catarina about being summoned by the Spiral Labyrinth to investigate the suspicious activities that had occurred, but he hadn’t told them of the other thing. Magnus hadn’t told them that his name was being tossed around for a seat on the Warlock Council, to take over the post vacated by Ragnor— _nominated by their friend himself_.

“I still have time to think about it, and even then, it is not a sure thing.” Magnus straightened up, waiting for Raphael to truly face him. “But that isn’t why you came here—why you’ve sought me out.”

Raphael turned around and walked to Magnus, leaving a few feet between them. His voice was soft yet firm. “I have taken over as New York Clan Leader, _Papá_.”

Magnus’ pride was palpable and washed away most of the weariness the night had brought upon him. “Yes, I’ve heard. I am very proud of you, _mijo_.”

He fell on one knee, head bowed. “I ask for the High Warlock’s blessing, that he may offer guidance and aide, and be secure that me and mine shall not endanger the Downworld.”

“As your High Warlock,” through the tears that clouded Magnus’ vision, he continued, “I grant you that which you ask. May your reign be prosperous. As your _Papá,_ I bless you with the knowledge that I will never turn my back to you lest it be to your own in battle, my Raphael.”

“Thank you,” Raphael said, standing.

“There was no need for this, I hope you know that, _mijo_.” Magnus opened his arms in an offer of an embrace, delighted when he stepped into them.

“It is only right. You are more than just the Institute’s pet warlock.” Raphael muttered against Magnus’ shoulder.

“ _Raphael_.”

“I will not apologize for wanting to protect you.” The vampire squeezed Magnus tight once, then stepped away. “Shadowhunters always choose their own. It was you who taught me that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little over 20 pages long on my document. Whoa.
> 
> Can't believe we're at the halfway mark already!
> 
> 💚


	9. Day Five: The Heart

**ALEXANDER**

Two in the morning was definitely not the latest (earliest?) he’d ever gotten back to the Institute, but it was certainly the first time he’d done so without either Isabelle or Jace at his side. He headed straight for his room, far from sleepy but needing to get into a more comfortable space--both literally and figuratively. When he was finally able to take off his leather jacket and shoes, all Alec could really focus on was the cold that welcomed him when he let himself fall on the bed.

In the same Brooklyn penthouse he’d just left, his doppelganger was in bed with his sister, his parabatai, and his parabatai’s new lover. And in a different room in that same penthouse, Magnus Bane was in bed with Raphael Santiago.

Right after he’d so kindly let Alec unload on him the way he had.

After offering Alec to stay to be with his siblings.

He felt raw and bare whenever he was faced with Magnus, always feeling as if the warlock could look into his mind with a look and then flip his entire life around with a twist of his fingers. All he’d wanted was to stay away--

Well, no, that wasn’t right, was it?

If he were being honest with himself, what he wanted was the life Other Alec seemed to be living. The mundane was confident without being arrogant, social without overstepping boundaries, and--

_ “I’d like to think what diluted angel-blood I might still have has pulled me from all the shit that I went through to lead me to him.” _

Alec pushed himself off his bed and went about changing into a tank top and sweats. With a grunt, Alec left his room and headed straight for the training room. Without Jace to spar with and with himself temporarily out of the patrol rotations, he didn’t have any way to distract himself.

It seemed, however, that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep.

“Have a good night?” Lydia asked without stopping her movements. A dagger was in each of her hands, but Alec noted that one seemed more worn than the other.

“Jace, Isabelle, and Clary have elected to stay with Other Alec for the night.” Alec dutifully replied, standing tall and with his hands behind his back. “No demon sightings or more dimension magic.”

Lydia straightened out, frowning at him and casually pointing one of her daggers at him. “I’m not asking for a mission report, Alec. I’m asking, as your friend and fiancée, if you enjoyed your night out with your siblings.”

_ ‘With Magnus,’ _ didn’t seem to have to be said.

“It was Pandemonium,” he offered with a shrug. “I wasn’t exactly out there for fun.”

They watched each other then, and when Lydia loosened her stance and let her hands fall to her sides, her expression grew soft and concerned as she pointed out, “You didn’t have to be out there at all.”

An apology sat on the tip of his tongue, ready to appease and explain, but he was surprised when Lydia shook her head.

“Sorry about that, I…” she sighed, and there was such a weight behind it that took Alec’s breath away. “It’s been an eventful couple of days.” She said instead.

He agreed with her in the privacy of his mind, watching as she walked to the side where her towel and water bottle sat. She set the more worn dagger in an intricate case inlaid with navy blue velvet.

“Alec.” She called out to him as if he were farther than he actually was. Then again, he supposed with the way his mind was all over the place recently, it wouldn’t be too wrong of an observation. “Are you sure about this?”

“I proposed to you.” He pointed out, understanding exactly what she was talking about and knowing they would be better off tackling it as they did their normal duties--straightforward and without much regard for their personal stakes in the matter.

“And I accepted because, well…” she moved her shoulders in a shrug, but the move seemed so out of place to the prim and proper woman he knew her as that it stunned him. “I think we owe it to each other to be frank, right?” She looked around briefly then packed her stuff away and into her bag. “Join me for tea in my room?”

His heart pounded at the innocent question, and he knew a light blush had begun to blossom on his cheeks when Lydia grinned.

“Relax,” she told him, patting his bicep once, “I’m not propositioning you, Alec. I just feel as if this is a conversation better had behind closed doors.”

  
  
  
No one batted an eye at him and Lydia heading to her quarters, and it relieved and worried him in equal measure. This was what he had to look forward to, was it not? They’d spend the rest of their lives together. They would run the Institute, maybe work their way up to Consul or Inquisitor…

Have children.

Build a family.

Continue the legacy.

“I’m still in love with John,” Lydia said once they were settled in the sitting room of her assigned quarters. They each had a cup of coffee before them--having changed their minds upon their arrival as to their beverage. “When he proposed to me, I’d accepted because I love him. We had grand plans: run the institute, start a family, be the best shadowhunters we could be...and I found out from Other Alec that I--”

Her breath hitched, but Alec said nothing.

“The Lydia of his dimension,” she amended, and Alec knew he wasn’t imagining the hurt and longing in her voice. “She’s married with children.” She added on, “To John.” And even more: “With John.”

Although this was news to him, he had to admit that he hadn’t really been interested in finding out about Lydia’s counterpart to have even considered if it would have impacted them in any way.

“Alec, I know Other Alec and--he’s--Alec, would it even be possible for you to fall in love with me?”

“No.”

Despite both having known the answer, they were surprised it had been said out loud at all.

A border-line delirious laugh escaped Lydia, and Alec felt stuck between spiraling into his thoughts and flying free at having said something so undoubtedly true about his sexuality for the first time.

“Well, that answers that.” She swiped at a few tears that had escaped her eyes, her laughter trickling to a small sigh.

“I’ve tried,” Alec began, reaching for his cup to cradle it between both his hands. “Without much success.”

Lydia made a small hum of agreement. “I always knew where I wanted to be when I was a kid. Inquisitor, with a husband and at least three kids. Thankfully, John and I were childhood friends and agreed on it. He always preferred to be out in the field and away from politics anyways, while I thrived in it.”

There was no mistaking how bittersweet Lydia felt at the direction their conversation had turned. He tried to digest the words and the feelings behind them. What must it have felt to have loved so strongly and to subsequently lose it?

“We’d make a great team, Alec. You have familiarity with the Institute and the locality, the training needed to lead, and great instincts born out of practice and necessity as the heir of your family.” Lydia laid it out like a mission report: all facts and no nonsense. “I have the favor of the Clave, training of my own, and an open-mindedness born out of my own wish to change the broken system we’ve always been subjected to--from the inside.”

“Change the system?”

“We both know the Clave is elitist and hypocritical at its core.” Lydia looked away then, and Alec understood then the implications of her next words. “The Circle didn’t grow overnight, and they certainly weren’t defeated back in the Uprising. Their operations were only momentarily paused, maybe not even that, and simply just better hidden, as we’ve been able to gather from the Circle members you’ve managed to capture. And for as long as the people up top refuse to implement proper changes, we’ll always be subject to the same racist, oppressive, and unethical teachings we grew up with.”

“You’ve thought plenty about this.”

The corners of her eyes wrinkled as she pursed her lips. “My grandfather worked with Magnus Bane to create the portal.” She undid the knot of her ponytail, letting her hair down. “But even before that, the Branwells have always had good relations with downworlders, or at least warlocks. It was a mostly political maneuver. You never know when and where you’d need a friend, after all, but with that friendship also came an understanding that for all the good the Accords supposedly stood for, it protected shadowhunters more than anyone else.”

Alec let the silence sit for a bit, eyes resting on the well-used dagger Lydia had laid out on the table. Various runes lined the handle, he noticed in that moment. Though amidst the battle or weapon-specific ones, he noticed one that seemed out of place.

There, on the hilt of the dagger, close to the blade, the love rune sat.

“So, what happens now?” He asked, daring to look back at her.

“I’d like to think we could have still made it work,” Lydia leaned back, slumping into the soft fabric of the seat. “It wouldn’t be the first time two people married for political reasons, and if…” Another sigh. “I think we could be discrete when needed.”

Eyes wide, Alec let her words sink in as he recalled his conversation with Other Alec. “And what if you find someone you’d want to...to have all of that with?”

“I won’t lie and say I hadn’t thought about us possibly getting properly together after the wedding,” was Lydia’s admission. “But I have to ask you the same thing, Alec. What would have happened after the wedding? Would we have taken other lovers? Would we have had a sexless marriage--or worse, would you have slept with me just to have kids?”

Alec rubbed at his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t have to explicitly confirm her questions. “What about all the changes we want to make?”

“Why do we have to be married to make them?” Lydia leaned over to the table, grabbing the dagger Alec had been observing earlier. Her thumb caressed the love rune as she gripped the hilt. “I can’t see myself caring for anyone else like that ever again, but we don’t know what the future holds. And I know we can have lovers outside of our marriage, but how would that work in favor of you restoring honor to the Lightwood name?”

And wasn’t that the truth? Alec had gone through all his life with the weight of his family name on his shoulders. He always had to be the responsible Lightwood, the straight-laced Lightwood, the level-headed Lightwood, the  _ straight _ Lightwood. It was on him to restore what tattered reputation they had left from his parents’ decision to align themselves with the Circle. The fact that they still had control over the New York Institute at all was a mercy in itself.

Lydia put a hand on his knee, squeezing.

“I’m gay.” He’d never said it out loud before, he realized.

“And you deserve to be happy.” She shuffled closer to Alec. “Just like any other shadowhunter.” Lydia laid her head on his shoulder, “Maybe even more. After all that’s been happening here and even what Other Alec’s shared with me...Angel knows you deserve happiness too, Alec.”

  
  
  


The hour-long nap that followed his return to his own rooms did nothing to rejuvenate him, but he supposed he at least had runes to fuel his body while his mind worked on overdrive. There was no way he was going to get any proper rest any time soon. Not with the way his heart was pounding with every possibility laid out before him and Lydia.

“Change of plans?” Other Alec raised a brow at him as he opened the door of Magnus’ penthouse. He stepped aside to let Alec in without waiting for a response though.

“Something like that,” Alec replied as he stepped through the doorway.

“We were just about to have breakfast. Izzy’s taking a shower and Jace is sleeping in a little.”

Clary looked up from where she was setting the table. “Good morning,” she smiled at him, before movement down the hallway that led to Magnus’ bedroom caught their attention.

Alec thought the warlock looked far too put together at seven in the morning, considering the time they’d all actually gone to bed.  _ Considering how he had gone to bed with Raphael Santiago _ . Positioned as they were, he was mostly obscured from Magnus’ view by Other Alec, made more evident when Magnus didn’t seem to bat an eye at his early and unplanned return.

“Here I thought you might want to have brunch out,” Magnus wiggled his fingers, palm out towards them. His gaze slid over to Alec’s looming figure behind his houseguest, and he arched a brow at Other Alec.

“Your wards,” said Other Alec with a shrug, returning to the hash he was making. Alec wasn’t sure what that was about. “If you’re up for it, maybe magic up chicken and waffles? I can marinate the chicken for dinner later instead.” He rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, and Alec felt a little uneasy at the sight of his image so comfortable in Magnus’ place.

Magnus tilted his head to the side. “Good morning, Alec.”

Back to the nickname, Alec noted morosely. He didn’t let it deter him though, smiling and stuttering out a greeting in return. It was far too early to feel so out of his element already, but he supposed that was something he’d come to expect when faced with Magnus Bane. He could feel the warmth creep into his cheeks.

“Alexander,” Other Alec huffed, much to Alec’s confusion.

Magnus took it in stride, shaking his head and nodding at Alec. “Alexander.” He repeated dutifully, earning a nod from Other Alec and a snigger from Clary.

Still mostly unsure what that entire exchange was about, Alec decided to simply bask in the sweet heat from within whenever Magnus chose to address him by his full name.

“Have you gotten any sleep at all?” Magnus asked after a snap of his fingers. A breakfast spread appeared on the table Clary had just set: an array of dishes beyond the chicken and waffles Other Alec had asked for accompanied by three different carafes of drinks in different colors.

“You can’t lecture me about sleep.” Alec watched as Other Alec handed Magnus his coffee. “Sit down and wait for everyone to join us.”

“How am I being bossed around by a mundane in my own home?” The warlock laughed, acquiescing to the order anyways. “I do need to hurry though, I have some clients to attend to in about an hour or two before I get started with your potion.” He seemed to pause, and then focused all his attention on Alec. “That does remind me, I would need an amount of blood for the potion.”

“An amount?” Other Alec echoed before Alec himself could respond. “Be a little more cryptic about it, won’t you?”

“Not cryptic,” Magnus snarked.

“Coy?”  _ “Coy.” _

Both Alecs turned to each other in surprise, though Other Alec was the first to break and smirked at the shadowhunter. Clary, who’d been content to watch the entire exchange, couldn’t help her amusement as she smiled. They’d laid out various concerns before Other Alec the night before, ranging from the strained familial relationships among the Lightwoods, to Alec and Lydia’s upcoming nuptials, and even the possibility of keeping Magnus as their friend and not just the warlock they go to for help.

All in all, Other Alec had made it clear that while he and Alec may share plenty of similarities, they were still very much living different lives. He reminded them that to keep Magnus as a friend didn’t necessarily need to have anything to do with his and Alec’s relationship. And Isabelle had mostly been delighted at having someone around she could finally discuss fashion  _ and science and parties _ with. Jace on the other hand, confessed to fearing for his  _ parabatai _ . After all they’d gone through, he wanted to support Alec, but not on his path to destroying any chance for happiness he had. Then again, Other Alec was the voice of reason that told the pair nothing was set in stone.

Although admittedly not a decision he agreed with, Other Alec explained that he did have a certain level of respect for all that Alec was willing to do for the sake of his family, because where he’d been backed into the corner and lashed out to eventually seek comfort with his chosen family, Alec seemed to soak it all in and hardened himself up against everything everyone threw at him, leading to a sort of self-imposed isolation that made everyone’s heart ache. He’d spoken of his own Isabelle, Jace, and Max; and even of half-siblings that didn’t exist in their dimension (yet?). And it was made clear that in either dimension, Alec Lightwood would do everything for his siblings.

“Well, that was interesting, to say the least.” Magnus laughed.

“Or you’re just predictable,” Other Alec said as he sat across Magnus, just as Isabelle and Jace emerged to join them.

Magnus sipped his coffee, grousing, “Such blasphemous words in my household.” He gestured around the table with a hand, “Have a seat, shadowhunters, let’s have breakfast before I must be off to leave you to babysit.”

Without much thought, Alec sat himself to Magnus’ right, leaving the only available space on their side to be the one on his right, where Isabelle chose to sit after giving him a quick hug. Across her sat Jace, and between his  _ parabatai  _ and Other Alec (and therefore across from himself) sat Clary.

As they were all beginning to dig in, a fire message arrived for Magnus, looking decidedly official; written as it were on parchment and completed with a wax seal.

“Feel free to come and go as you please,” he told Other Alec as he folded the letter and it disappeared in his hand. He then turned to the rest, eyes settling particularly on Alec. “I have High Warlock duties to attend to, I’m afraid, so I shall leave our baby in your capable hands.”

He was momentarily struck by being the center of Magnus’ attention once again. And what had he said?  _ Baby?  _ Managing to stutter out an affirmative, Alec swallowed the lump in his throat when Magnus smiled, soft and maybe a little amused. With a snap of Magnus’ fingers, a portal appeared behind him.

“Bye, sweetheart,” Other Alec called out, causing Magnus to turn back to him and someone to nearly choke on their food (Alec just assumed it was his  _ parabatai _ , really).

“Behave,” replied Magnus with a roll of his eyes, before stepping back into the portal.

When it disappeared, Other Alec turned back to him with a raised brow, “So why  _ are _ you here? Am I being evicted from the Institute, Big Brother?”

“I’m not your brother,” was Alec’s immediate reply.

“That’s not what he meant,” Clary cut in. “It’s a--”

“Pop culture references go over shadowhunter heads, right.” Other Alec rolled his eyes, then nudged Clary, “Say, why didn’t you invite Simon out last night? I’m sure he would have loved to know about Jocelyn too.”

“Um, Simon’s--”

“A vampire? I heard about the Camille situation from the other day.”

Clary pressed her lips together. “Yes, but also, he’s kind of having a hard time adjusting to it. I thought maybe a bit of time apart would help him out.”

Alec watched as Other Alec seemed to ponder it, dousing his waffles in syrup as he did. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Clary that could be without her partner-in-nerdy-and-geeky-things for longer than a few days. Hell, when Clar went to study abroad, she and Simon facetimed more often than she and Jace did.” He wrinkled his nose at Clary’s amusement and Jace’s scoff, “The codependence was real between those two.”

“You and Clary are close in your dimension,” Isabelle said as she took the seat Magnus had vacated. She grinned at her brother, “Guess that’s something we can look forward to.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Alec replied with a shake of his head.

Other Alec shrugged, “What’s true in my world wouldn’t necessarily hold true here.”

Isabelle and Clary met the other’s gaze, a gesture going unnoticed by the three men as Alec mostly watched Other Alec while Jace tried to rope everyone into conversation about their counterparts in the other dimension.

And though Alec participated, he couldn’t help but think back to the letter Magnus had received. Did that have to do with the reason Magnus had said he would be leaving? He wasn’t entirely sure what the seal on the missive had been, having never encountered it before, but it must have been something urgent to pull Magnus away from breakfast.

He assured himself with the thought that Other Alec didn’t seem too worried, and so he should just let it go as well.

  
  


“Don’t kill each other,” Isabelle said, looking between Alec and Other Alec.

“I’ve already let Lydia know,” replied Alec with a roll of his eyes. “Make sure neither of you fall behind on training. Raziel knows you’ve been taking it too easy the past few days.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Izzy.” Other Alec pulled her in for a quick hug, doing the same with Clary and a quick nod at Jace. “I promise not to break your  _ parabatai _ .”

Jace shot Alec a look, smirking. “If you do, I’m sure he’ll deserve it.”

Alec leveled the blond with a dry look, “Get out of here, Herondale.”

The trio left with a laugh, though Jace’s muttered, “Not yet Magnus’ boyfriend and already acts like he owns the place,” didn’t go unheard by either Alec.

“You know,” Other Alec said as he closed the door behind them. “I really wouldn’t leave if you would prefer to return to the Institute. Magnus will be back soon enough, and even if he were gone a little while longer, I was thinking of going back to sleep anyways.”

“Do you know where he is?”

Alec watched as Other Alec paused, opened his mouth, then frowned and raised a brow at him, “Who’s asking?”

“I am…?”

“He’s with a friend,” Other Alec replied, and Alec understood then what the odd act had been. He wasn’t blind to the bond between Magnus and Other Alec--even disliked it, to put it mildly--but he hadn’t realized it reached the point of such a fierce protectiveness he felt was comparable to the same way he would have defended… _ how Jace has been defending Clary _ .

“Okay.”

It was the dimension-hopper’s time to be surprised, “Okay? That’s it? Not going to ask again?”

Alec smirked at the familiar words, settling on the couch. “That’s it. You don’t seem worried about it, and between you and me, I guess I’m not surprised you’d be the one to know whether or not we should be worried at all.”

Other Alec hummed thoughtfully, sitting on the opposite end of the couch as he grabbed the remote. “He told me we’ll be working on the potion today, so I doubt he’d do anything that would jeopardize my going back home. Besides, it’s not as if he’d leave if it wasn’t necessary. The letter earlier was from the Spiral Labyrinth. I’d know the seal anywhere.”

“Oh?” What would a mundane know about the Spiral Labyrinth?

“Mags got messages from them a couple of times throughout our relationship. Most of them had to do with his sudden return and rise in power. He isn’t the..” Other Alec scrunched up his nose as he switched to netflix. “High Warlock, so getting a random power boost raised suspicion with Lorenzo Rey, that actual High Warlock.”

“You and Mags…”

Not bothering to look at him, Other Alec flicked through the various shows and films at their fingertips.

“He just...how did that happen?”

There was a moment where Alec thought his counterpart was set on ignoring him, but then Other Alec hit play on some movie Alec couldn’t be any less interested in and shifted his weight so that his legs were under him and his left arm was on the back of the couch. He leaned his cheek against his hand, hazel eyes studying Alec with a look he was familiar with but had never seen directed at himself. It was assessing and impatient; like he knew exactly what the point of the conversation was, but was annoyed that they weren’t there yet.

Refusing to back down from the mundane version of himself, he simply looked back.

Other Alec smirked, “Why don’t you try it yourself? See how  _ that _ happens.”

And just like that, the classic Lightwood glower was back.

“Kidding aside, I’m not sure what you actually want to know.” Other Alec raised a brow, “How we met? You already know that. How we fell in love? Slowly, if you would believe it. I mean, his cute geeky exterior aside, we fucked--a lot--and it was great, but the feelings? We were both so jaded because of our own shitty baggage that even though we knew we loved each other, it took a while before we actually said it to each other. How it works out that I’m a mundane and he isn’t? Well, that comes up a lot less than you’d think.”

Alec’s head spun with the ease with which Other Alec spoke of his relationship with Mags once again. Was this something he could really have? Could he go that far for someone he barely knew?

“Some unsolicited advice from a version of you that will probably be something you haven’t heard yet,” Other Alec looked outside, where they can see one of the stray cats Magnus always left food out for peeking at them. “Chairman.” He heard Other Alec mutter before laughing and shaking his head. “Don’t come out.”

He said nothing, though he was sure his surprise and confusion could be felt.

“More accurately, don’t come out unless you want to. No one should push or coerce you into it. In your position especially, with a fiancé and an important position, everything seems pretty life or death. Magnus told me—”

Alec felt his heart stop at the confirmation that Other Alec and Magnus had indeed spoken about him. It wasn’t much of a surprise, of course, but to hear it from his counterpart himself felt entirely different than when it came from Isabelle.

“Maybe you’ll be the type to have a  _ Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell _ sort of thing going on. I hear that’s more common than one would think when it comes to politicians.”

He barely flinched at the phrasing. Such familiar words. And yet, all he really cared about was: “What did Magnus say?”

“Nothing I haven’t already said about my Mags,” admitted Other Alec readily. “That you were a breath of fresh air after so long drowning himself in every frivolous and meaningless thing, that he’s all but begged for a chance for a date, that you’ve unlocked something in him…”

Even without Magnus there, Alec could feel himself begin to blush at just the thought that Magnus had spoken about him in such a way. It felt intimate and... _ sweet _ in a way he didn’t think he’d ever felt before.

“Which also leads me to,” Other Alec sighed, deep and slow. “Magnus will support you in whatever you need and want, y’know? I’m pretty sure if you propositioned him for some sort of arrangement after you tie the knot, he wouldn’t say no.”

Alec looked mortified at Other Alec’s words, but the mundane wasn’t done.

“I’m asking you not to do that. Magnus deserves better than to be hidden away like some dirty little secret. And he might not know that himself, but I wouldn’t want him to learn such a painful lesson from someone remotely connected to me if I can help it.”

“I wouldn’t—!”

“I know, I know, but don’t tell me you haven’t at least been tempted. Something was different when we came back from Pandemonium. I didn’t want to call either of you out on it because I know how unnerving it feels to have all these new inexplicable emotions bursting out of you and no way to express them.” Alec couldn’t meet Other Alec’s eyes anymore, settling his gaze on his hands, clenched as they were.

“Why aren’t you telling me to call off the wedding?”

“Because I don’t really know what that means to you. I mean, I get it. Family, duty, honor. Once upon a time, I may even be making the same choices.” Other Alec rearranged himself so that he was facing the television once again. “But now, the most I can do is sympathize, and even then, I just-I—“ Other Alec huffed, and even Alec could tell how incredibly like him the action was. “I can’t imagine life without Magnus anymore. And before him, I couldn’t imagine living by rules so contrary to my own beliefs that I’d live a lie the rest of my days.”

_ Oh. _

“So yeah, I think the entire thing is crazy and could end in disaster, but you’re also probably the perfectly-groomed politician your parents want you to be. You know what you had to do, and I’m guessing that’s how you got to where you are now.”

_ Engaged to someone I could never fall in love with. Promises of the ideal shadowhunter life lay ahead. Living a lie. _

“Either way, something that remains true for both of us is that Isabelle and Jace will always have your back. Probably Clary and Simon too, if you let them.”

“So you think I should go through with it?”

“I think you know what you want to happen, what you need to do to make it happen, and what consequences there probably will be when both those things occur. You’re looking for validation, but all I’ll tell you is that it’s all yours and Lydia’s choice to make.”

“That’s…” Alec nodded to himself. “Yeah. That sounds right.”

Other Alec shrugged, “We Alec Lightwoods, have our own lives to live.”

Laid out like that, it seemed so simple.

And yet so unbelievably overwhelming.

  
  
  
  


**MAGNUS**

Raphael left a few minutes before the sun rose, through a portal that led straight to the Dumort. His pseudo son was still very much not a fan of the shadowhunters he’s found himself being surrounded by, but other than his usual blunt (if sometimes abraissive) comments, Magnus knew Raphael wouldn’t act out against them. They finalized plans for his eventual departure to the Spiral Labyrinth and their personal mission to look for any sign of Ragnor being alive.

He chugged a pick-me-up potion to keep himself awake for at least the next twelve to sixteen hours, which would be enough time to start on Alec’s potion, send out client orders, and read through a few more of Ragnor’s journals.

Recalling that he had guests, Magnus made sure he was dressed for the day before he stepped out of his room.

The return of one Alec Lightwood was definitely not something he’d been expecting. Not that day, at least. He knew they would have to interact sooner or later, especially with his need for Alexander’s blood for Alec’s potion. Alas, it wasn’t as if the Angel or whoever the fuck was willing to give him a break.

As if it weren't enough that he had to deal with shadowhunters now more than he has ever had to in his centuries alive. Even when he had been around Tessa and her boys, none had acted as familiar with him as this new generation of nephilim did. This was made blatantly obvious by the presence of Alec in his apartment alone, and now he was housing shadowhunters simply because they had grown as attached to Alec as he had and had wanted to spend time with him as well.

Upon exiting his room, however, he was surprised to find that both Alec Lightwoods were in his loft, though he hadn’t recalled letting Alexander through or having had plans of returning at all.

Alec’s careless shrug and comment about his wards letting Alexander pass was both a surprise and not at all. After having Alec be recognized by his own wards because of Mags, it would stand to reason that the wards would let Alexander pass as well. He simply wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Then again, there were worse people to have such access to him.

The correction of names amused Magnus as much as it did make him mentally cringe. He was supposed to be distancing himself from Alexander. He’d meant it when he’d apologized, and he’d meant it when he said he wouldn’t bother the man once again for something as inconsequential as  _ what could be (or what could have been)  _ between them. With his eventual departure set for a few days after Alec leaves, distance was something he and Alexander were sure to have anyways.

Distance.

And time.

He started when Alexander occupied the seat beside him, though his only reaction was to meet and maintain Alec’s gaze.

A fire message saved him from having to stick around though. He stood as he read it, the official seal of the Spiral Labyrinth easily recognizable.

It seemed that someone had been asking the various New York-based warlocks about their evaluation of him as their High Warlock. There had been a variety of responses, with the general view being that he put his people above all else--which plenty thought a requirement to be seated on the Warlock Council. Without a doubt, there was a lot of politics and historical nuances that were being taken into account (and that he would have to deal with later on). It was the first of many evaluations, he knew, but it was also the most important one because it meant he had a year to acknowledge the nomination. And a year passed by far too quickly for an immortal.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here for another hour.” Tessa raised a brow, steel blue eyes narrowed.

Magnus shot her a look, “You expect me to wait a second longer when you sent me a letter that all but laid Ragnor’s disappearance at my feet?”

He accepted the drink Tessa magicked into his hand, a cocktail he only ever really drank when she was the one to provide it for him. With a sigh, he perched himself on one of the armchairs by the fireplace. He let his eyes roam, taking in the decor and furniture left untouched but well-preserved even after over a century since having been there. The room felt more like a time capsule than an actual sitting room, though to both warlocks it simply spoke of a different time in their lives. Gone were the Herondales that had once walked the halls and breathed life into the walls. No family portrait would be found in the entirety of the house until Tessa herself deemed a new Herondale worthy to inherit the estate gifted to her by her grandchildren.

In the back of his mind, Magnus noted that he ought to inform Tessa of the newly-minted Herondale walking the streets of New York.

“You must know how odd it looks. Two large bursts of magic in succession occurred within twenty-four hours. Both bear your signature, and one left Ragnor  _ missing _ .”

Missing, not dead. The distinction was clear. He had sent his report of Ragnor’s death to the Labyrinth, the Warlock Council, and the High Warlock of Dublin. Had they been any other being but warlocks, Ragnor would have been believed and accepted dead as soon as he had come forward with the information. And though he himself had believed it, the journal he’d found at Camille’s was leading him to believe otherwise--not to mention the memory Alec had shared.

Tessa looked out the window, “I only want to know that these aren’t things that would unnecessarily endanger our people, Magnus.”

“I had no part in instigating either event.” He replied after a long slow sip of his beverage. “Clarissa Fairchild sought Ragnor’s help to wake her mother, and it was during our excursion that a Shax demon managed to slip through and mortally wounded our friend. I sent them back to their Institute while I remained to care for Ragnor’s estate.”

The way her jaw clenched betrayed her feelings on the matter, but neither let him be derailed.

“Not even an hour after returning to New York, I received a summons from the current Head of the Institute about a little problem they’d encountered. As the current wards keeper for the Institute, I could immediately tell that there was an unusual presence within. Only, what I hadn’t been prepared for was that the unusual presence had been my own magic,  _ but different _ .”

Age and experience had taught Tessa to know how and when to wait Magnus out. Where others may have pushed and asked for all details to be revealed, she knew that he loved to explain--be it theory, a story, or even something in between.

“A man with nephilim ancestry from a different dimension had appeared out of thin air in the Head’s Office, and he was covered in my own protective spells from centuries ago.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, finding himself recalling all that had occurred since. Had it really been only three days?

“That’s enough.” Tessa’s voice was soft yet firm. “I’ll relay that to the Council and see what I can find at the Labyrinth.”

Magnus’ answering smile was bittersweet. “He looks very much like a nephilim in this world that I--” He stopped himself from saying more. For what else could he have said, really? That Alexander Lightwood had managed to unearth his heart from the depths in which he’d buried it? That Alec Lightwood, with all his teasing and complete devotion to  _ Mags _ has evoked in Magnus the most confusing envy he had ever had to experience? That for all the jokes he had made at Tessa’s expense for loving her nephilims, he now knew how utterly possible and compromising it was for himself?

How utterly easy, even.

“Tessa,” and even Magnus could hear his voice break. He reached a hand out to her, and she took it without haste.

They shared a memory then, still fresh in Magnus’ mind, but only beginning to settle in with what little morning light he’d glimpsed back in Brooklyn. Alec’s memory, Alexander’s-- _ confession? Confusion? _ \--Alec Lightwoods in his loft. There were so many that, combined together, felt nearly as overwhelming as Ragnor’s death-but-not-maybe.

When they parted, Tessa settled on the arm of Magnus’ seat, resting her cheek against his temple and wrapping her arms around him.

“Then you know I cannot take your place, Magnus.” She closed her eyes, and he leaned even more into her warmth. “More than the High Warlock of Brooklyn, your own little band of nephilim needs you as you are.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I know  _ you _ .”

He pulled back slightly, eyes closed in a refusal to meet hers.

“You never would have come to me to ask me to play dress up, no matter how much I’ve come to love your wardrobe.” The minute lightening of the mood was enough to ease her into more sincere sentiments, “Temporal and dimensional magic was never my area of expertise, nor my interest. It was always yours and Ragnor’s, just as Catarina preferred healing and potion-making and I preferred glamouring and warding. Ragnor of the other dimension is right to trust you to be able to return the Lightwood boy, just as our own Ragnor trusts you with all that had been his.” Tessa sighed, and Magnus felt far younger than the centuries he had on her. “And you ought to learn to trust yourself even half as much, Magnus Bane.”

“You want me to trust myself more, while Raphael believes I trust others too much.”

“Balance is a thing we’re supposed to learn and actually practice, Magnus.” Tessa smoothed a thumb down the crease between Magnus’ brows.

“You would keep the details from the Council, then?”

Tessa shot him a look, “What details?”

Magnus smiled, grateful. “Thank you.”

“Now, the matter of Ragnor, however…”

  
  


Two hours later, Magnus stepped out of a portal and into his bedroom,. A quick scan of the loft’s wards told him that only two others remained. He tapped on his necklaces, steeling himself, before joining them in the living room.

“How was your trip?”

“Went about as well as I’d expected.” Magnus replied flippantly, a small wave of his hand making the door to his apothecary open. “Now, I believe you wanted to help with the potion?”

Alec didn’t waste time, leaving Alexander to the-- _ was that Mean Girls on TV? _ \--movie and even bypassing Magnus as he headed straight for the newly-opened space. Magnus realized why as Alec went about organizing the necessary tools and ingredients they would need. One of the memories he had helped Alec recover was the making of the potion he had taken to come to this dimension, and really, it was much of the same, only the pentagram he would be drawing would need Alexander’s blood in the four directions.

Magnus turned to Alexander, “Thank you for keeping him company. I’d offer a portal so you can return to the Institute, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t take it because your shift isn’t over.”

Alexander’s confusion morphed into amusement as he nodded.

“Well, help yourself to whatever,” replied Magnus, refusing to stare at the lovely shadowhunter before him. Aside from when he’d fallen asleep on the same couch, Magnus had never seen the young man look as relaxed as he did. “I suppose I should also take this time to request drops of your blood for the sigil to be drawn.”

“How much do you need?”

"Just a few drops would be enough,” Magnus conjured a small vial but didn’t offer it to Alexander. “Although I understand there might be well-found concerns with someone having any amount of nephilim blood at their disposal, so you can simply spare a few drops when we actually get around to setting up. I have a feeling you and your team would want to supervise anyways.”

“I’d trust you with it,” Alexander said, even as Magnus vanished the vial. He understood the implications of Magnus’ words. Nephilim blood made for valuable if uncommon potions ingredients, which only added to his people’s own biases and belief that they had superior blood. And despite growing up with those same biases, he knew they were wrong. More than that, he knew he trusted Magnus. Without question, he did. “But you’re right, I’ll want to oversee the spell in case anything goes wrong.”

“Considering we’d have to do it the same place he appeared, I would have to speak with Lydia again.” Magnus held his breath for a second, and then: “Unless you’d prefer to speak with her yourself?”

Right. Of course. Because Lydia was his fiancée. It stood to reason that he would want to be the one to talk to her.

When Alexander seemed unresponsive, Magnus took it as a negative and was about to assure that he would speak to Lydia himself, when—

“Magnus, I—“

“Perhaps we--”

Magnus smiled, “Please, go ahead.”

“No, you.”

“Alec,” Magnus let out a small huff of exasperation, though the corner of his lips quirked up to betray his amusement. There was an expression in Alexander’s eyes he couldn’t quite place. It made the nephilim’s eyes bright and alluring, but the stubborn set of his jaw told Magnus there was more than he would probably be hearing.

“Thank you,” Alexander said, and when he licked his lips, Magnus’ gaze honed in on them. “For last night and--”  _ everything else. _

_ "I will not ask again.” _

Magnus wondered if, in another dimension where he was a warlock and Alec was a shadowhunter, they would have had better interactions than the ones they’ve had so far. Not even necessarily romantic...just... _ better _ . What stilted conversations they’ve had always felt so loaded and maybe even disconcerting. He knew, rationally, that despite how he felt for the man, they barely knew each other.

But he’d always been the type to listen to his heart.

And all it’s been screaming for has been the man before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH, this was supposed to be a lot longer, but I figured there was no harm in splittiing it in half, which means they chapter count might get a boost...or not. We'll see!


End file.
